Gospel Story Finder

In fact, many LDS youth here look at music as a worthwhile way to employ their time. For example, Sara Williams, 16, her brother, Tyler, 18, and Rebecca Howell, 15, all members of the Byrd Springs Ward, are among 10 Latter-day Saints in the award-winning Virgil I. Grissom High School marching band.
“Through band, you learn to appreciate all kinds of music,” Sara says. “But band teaches you a lot of other things, too.”
“It teaches teamwork, especially marching band, because you can’t march a solo,” she says. “You gain good friends in the band, because you work so hard together.”
And yet, in some ways, Sara is familiar with the all-alone routine. It’s an experience born of standing up for her standards.
“Someone would say, ‘We want to watch this movie.’ And I’d say, ‘What’s it rated?’ At first they’d say, ‘Oh, come on.’ But now they know I will not watch an R-rated movie. And they know I don’t come out on Sundays and go places with them, because it’s the Sabbath. They respect me a lot for what I believe.”
And the respect is mutual. “The kids in the band all have pretty good standards, to where you’re not the only one who is saying, ‘No, I will not drink or smoke,’ or ‘No, I will not have sex before marriage.’ Like it says in For the Strength of Youth, they’re a good influence, so I enjoy hanging out with them.”

Sometimes the Holy Ghost will give us a warning, a loving chastisement, if you will, that can also serve as a witness to us of the love of Jesus Christ. I recall just such an experience. I had been a bishop of our ward in Payson for a little over five years when a young man who was graduating from Primary and entering the Young Men’s organization came into my office. I knew this 12-year-old. You see he was only 7 when I first became his bishop. From the time he was 7 years old until he was 12—well, let’s just say that he presented a challenge to his teachers. He came into the office and I remember very distinctly thinking to myself, “Oh, so I have an appointment with ——. I wonder if he will sit still while I talk to him. I hope he grows up soon. I don’t know how he can possibly be a responsible deacon, holding the Aaronic Priesthood. I don’t see how he will be a Boy Scout.” At that moment, as he sat down across from my desk, the Lord spoke to me. I must have sat there for a long moment not uttering a word as I listened to the still, small voice say: “You must quit thinking ill of this young man. You cannot judge him in that way. You, as a judge in Israel, of all people, must listen to me, because I love this boy. He will one day be a leader in my kingdom.”

Do you know what that experience taught me? Well, I left the office that Sunday afternoon and related the experience to my wife and told her that I knew now, more than ever, that the Lord loves us all. Else, why would he teach me that lesson? You can also guess that as I remember that lesson, I remember the feelings and the promptings of the Holy Ghost. Because of that experience, I will always be able to recall that our Savior loves us, and I will become a better witness of Him.

After my family and I moved to a new state, I prayed constantly to find friends with whom I could talk about the gospel. As I prayed, I felt comforted, and a few months later I made some incredible friends. I can count on their support, and they have helped me to develop an even greater love for the gospel. I know that friends are important and they can make it easier for us to live the gospel.
Sarah P., 16, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

Two years ago, the Lord touched my dear mother’s heart, which helped her decide to receive the ordinance of baptism. I had waited for that day to take place for almost 35 years. In order for her to make that decision, many members of the Church truly ministered to her as Christ would. One Sunday, she felt she should go to church. She followed the prompting. While she sat on the front row and waited for the sacrament service to begin, a four-year-old boy stood in front of her and looked at her. She greeted him with a smile. The little boy left her presence abruptly and walked back to his own seat, which was on the other side of the row where my mother was seated. This little boy picked up something from his seat and came back and handed my mother a hymnbook and walked back to his seat. My mother noticed a hymnbook was placed on every other chair in the chapel. She could have easily picked one up from the chair next to her. However, she was very impressed with the boy’s innocent act of kindness, which he had learned in his home and at church. It was a tender moment for her. She had a strong impression that God was inviting her to come and follow the Savior. She felt she should be baptized. This little boy did not seek recognition for what he did, but he simply did his best to live the word of God and to love his neighbor. His kindness created an important change of heart in my mother.

When President Thomas S. Monson was young, his parents taught him the principle of work by their examples. His father, a printer, worked long and hard practically every day of his life. When he was home, he did not stop working in order to take a well-deserved rest. He continued to work by providing service to family and neighbors alike.3 His mother was always working to provide some needed service to a family member or friend. President Monson’s parents often asked him to accompany them or to do some service for them, allowing him to learn firsthand about working to serve others.

President Monson learned from his father how to work in business and began his first part-time job when he was 14, working in the printing shop that his father managed. President Monson relates that after age 14, there have not been many days in his life—other than Sundays—when he didn’t work. “When you learn to work while you’re young, the habit stays with you,” he says.4

My friends used to tell vulgar stories during break. At first I would just leave, but then I decided to be more forthright. I told them there were many good things to think and talk about. I explained that I didn’t want my mind filled with unprofitable things.
They all ignored my request to stop—except for my friend Ivette. Whenever others made inappropriate comments, she would say, “Go somewhere else.” Sometimes she went with me. Later she met with the full-time missionaries.
Suamny Milagros Cedano de Franco,Villa Canales Branch, Guatemala City Guatemala Villa Hermosa Stake

Keith W. Wilcox, a member of the Church and a prominent architect, shared an experience from his university years that illustrates this truth. As part of his thesis while completing his master of architecture degree at the University of Oregon, his professor asked him to find one word or phrase that described the spirit of his church and then to design a church building that would demonstrate that word or phrase.
Keith responded to his professor that he
felt a single word or phrase could not be found to describe the spirit of my church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, since it is based upon all truth and therefore embraces all true, revealed religious beliefs and practices.
The professor disagreed. He felt strongly that what was missing from my thesis was a simple description of the spirit of my church and a design that would express it architecturally.
After the meeting, I left facing a challenge that, if not met, could well keep me from entering my chosen professional field. After pondering this dilemma, I decided to interview my priesthood leaders and other Church members in our ward. Many excellent suggestions for a single word or phrase to describe the spirit of the Church were made, including faith, eternal progression, revelation, the Book of Mormon, priesthood, prophets and apostles, and many others. I considered them all. But a means of satisfactorily expressing any of these gospel principles architecturally did not come to me.
With this delay in getting my degree, pressure mounted while I wrestled with the problem. For one thing, living costs for my family were becoming a concern. Then one night while pondering my problem, I realized I had not taken the challenge directly to our Father in Heaven. I had prayed for guidance and had sought out my priesthood leaders for advice, but I had not asked the Lord specifically for help in finding the word or phrase I needed. Humility filled my entire being. I had done all in my power to find an answer but had not been able to find a solution on my own. I truly needed direct help.
I found a quiet, private place to pray, and there I knelt and poured out my heart to my Heavenly Father. As I concluded my prayer, a word flashed into my mind: enlightenment. Then the phrase light and enlightenment followed. Joy swept through me. My prayer had been answered. I thought of how light and truth have been restored in our day through the Prophet Joseph Smith. As prophets, seers, and revelators, our Church leaders continue to offer light and truth to all who will listen. Our missionary efforts truly bring enlightenment to the world. Our temples glow with spiritual light. Eternal truths are taught and enlighten all who enter therein.
Suddenly it was easy to envision a meaningful architectural design for one of our Church buildings. I decided to design a building that would allow light to penetrate from the heavens all day long and that would radiate light heavenward each evening.
The resubmission of my thesis that now illustrated the phrase light and enlightenment was accepted. My professors expressed great interest in both the history and my description of the spirit of our church.
I am grateful to our Father in Heaven for the insight and inspiration I received on that occasion. The deep meaning and spiritual significance of this experience have been a wonderful and continued blessing to me since that day.8
Keith “went on to design many significant buildings and was part of the design team for the Washington DC Temple and the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah.”9

I am in seventh grade. Where I live, there aren’t a lot of members of the Church, and some of the people cuss and wear immodest clothing. As the environment around me started to become worse, I realized that if I didn’t strengthen my testimony and my relationship with God, then the worldly things would swallow me up. I noticed that I needed to become closer to God and that I needed to do it now.
I decided that I would choose to be around people who would respect my standards and that I would work harder in school and on my talents. On top of that, I helped prepare family home evening lessons so our family could be closer, and we started reading the scriptures together every night. I also decided to read my scriptures every day and keep a journal about what I’m reading. I pray every morning and night and when I need help. Every Sunday I listen in church so that I can learn as much as possible and do my best to absorb the teachings of prophets and apostles that are shared there.
My life is much happier now, and I can feel the Spirit every day. I don’t know why I was so driven to become closer to Heavenly Father, but it may be because of the feeling I got from doing good things or the blessings that were promised. I’m so glad I took the extra leap to become closer to my Heavenly Father. I know He loves me so much and blesses me so greatly.
Daniel N., Virginia, USA

On Friday, Jimmy came home from school tired. He dumped his books on the floor and tossed his jacket onto the couch. But it seemed to him that the picture of Jesus was looking directly at his books on the floor. Jimmy knew that the picture couldn’t really see anything, but he remembered how he had felt before they recognized Brother Park. If Jesus were to come into his home, he wouldn’t want his books to be on the floor. So Jimmy put them away and hung his jacket in the closet. As he munched on an apple and relaxed, he was glad that his house looked neat and clean. He knew that his mom would be glad too.

Our whole family worked as stake missionaries to the Salt Lake Stake Hmong Branch, and I taught Neng and Shoua and the other children how to fold their arms to pray, how to look at the pictures in Book of Mormon Stories, how to sing “I Am a Child of God.” They taught us how to say hello in Hmong—nyob zoo (knee-ah shong)—and we taught them all kinds of things, like how to turn on a light, use a pencil, or buy a chicken with money. At Christmastime generous people gave the Hmong some clothes, toys, fruit, candy, nuts, and cookies. They ate the oranges and nuts, but they threw away the candy and cookies!

One evening last summer the 64 members of the “Sounds of Friendship” performing group from the LDS Institute of Religion at Utah State University were worrying if they could keep the interest of 2,000 young people who didn’t speak English. The “Sounds” were to perform the next evening for youth groups from such countries as East Germany, Poland, Russia, and Bulgaria at the Youth Pop-folk Celebration at Primorsko, Bulgaria, a resort on the Black Sea. The Utahns hoped to make a lasting impression but were worried about the language differences and the cold, windy amphitheater where they would be performing. The next night, however, the weather suddenly turned warm and the “Sounds” presented their full concert to the entire audience. In fact, one group of listeners kept their bus waiting because they didn’t want to leave the performance! The language barrier had been broken.
The concert in Primorsko was part of a three-week tour of Rumania and Bulgaria for the “Sounds,” officially known as the “Sounds of Zion” in the United States. “While on tour we had to change our name, since we were not allowed to perform as a religious group,” explained member Alex Baugh. “So we centered our program on themes of happiness, joy, and the home and family. Yet at every concert we were able to sing ‘The Battle Hymn of the Republic,’ and ‘God Be with You.’ In this way we let them know how much our country and our Heavenly Father mean to us.”
In addition, the group was allowed to hand out picture postcards of Utah, the temples, and other Church buildings; Articles of Faith cards; buttons with their pictures on them; and Frisbees carrying the message “‘The Sounds of Friendship’ (The Mormons), Logan, Utah, USA.” The “Sounds” concluded their tour by taping a full-length show for Rumanian television, the first American group to do so. Director of the group, James Bradley, organized the “Sounds of Zion” 22 years ago with the purpose of forming an organization that could radiate the gospel in song and dance. He summed up the most recent trip by saying, “To me, it is almost a miracle to overcome so many difficulties and still be so effective. When the gospel doors are opened into Rumania and Bulgaria, I feel there will be many people who will welcome the missionaries with open arms.”

“When I thought that the last thing I said to my little brother was, ‘Don’t be late to class today’ instead of ‘I love you’ … You never understand how important someone is to you until you think they are gone,” says Lacy Stockwell, 18. Lacy had spoken to her freshman brother, Taylor, in the cafeteria just seconds before the shooting erupted. As she ran from the cafeteria, she’d been unable to find him.
Of her reaction at finding her brother safe, Lacy says, “It was incredible when I saw him. We yelled each other’s names and ran down the hall to each other and hugged. I can’t express the emotions I felt.”

It was stuck, completely, 100 percent stuck. I couldn’t pull the knee brace up any farther, but I also couldn’t pull it down to get it off. The doctor came back in, and I had to explain my predicament.
“You’re bigger than I thought,” was his comment.
After successfully wrestling the next larger size up my leg, I was ready to leave. The doctor’s nurse stopped me and apologized for the doctor’s comment.
“I told him you just don’t say things like that to girls. He meant you are tall.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “I get it all the time.”

My father had an idea that his boys ought to learn to work in the summer as well as in the winter, and so he bought a five-acre farm which eventually grew to include more than 30 acres. We lived there in the summer and returned to the city when school started.
We had a large orchard, and the trees had to be pruned each spring. Father took us to pruning demonstrations put on by experts from the agriculture college. We learned a great truth—that you could pretty well determine the kind of fruit you would pick in September by the way you pruned in February. Further, we learned that new, young wood produces the best fruit. That has had many applications in life (from Ensign, May 1993, 52).

In a high school not far from here, a young mentally handicapped student we will call Frank wanted so much to be accepted by the popular crowd. He would follow them around, always on the outside looking in, hoping to be included but never achieving it.
One day in the cafeteria, some of the more popular boys and girls encouraged Frank to get up on the table and dance. Thinking he would please them, he did it. In his awkward way, he twisted and twirled. The group yelled, clapped their hands, and laughed. They were laughing at him, and Frank thought they were laughing with him.
A few tables away, Dave was eating lunch with a friend and watching it all. He courageously leaped up, faced that crowd of tormentors, and through clenched teeth said, “I’ve had as much of this as I can stand!” He helped Frank down and said, “Frank, you come and have lunch with us.”
The Savior is counting on you to be a champion of those who need you, and they are all around you—in your school, in your neighborhood, in your family.

• After my baptism and confirmation, my mother drew me aside and asked, “What do you feel?” I described as best I could the warm feeling of peace, comfort, and happiness I had. Mother explained that what I was feeling was the gift I had just received, the gift of the Holy Ghost. She told me that if I lived worthy of it, I would have that gift with me continually. That was a teaching moment that has lived with me all my life.

One son bought a small home in a distant state. He showed me bricks on a corner of the foundation that were eroding away. He asked what he should do.
I did not know, but I asked, “Is there an older couple that lives close to you?”
“Yes,” he said, “across the street and down a few houses is a retired couple.”
“Why don’t you ask him to come over and look at that. He knows your climate.”
That was done, and he got the advice of an older man who had seen problems like that and many others. That is what adopted grandpas can do.

I was over in England a while back and a bishop asked me, “What is the Church’s stand on cola drinks?” I said, “Well, I can’t remember the exact wording of the bulletin, but I remember seeing the bulletin when I was a stake president. The Church, of course, advises against them.”

He said, “Well, I have read the Priesthood Bulletin, but that isn’t what it says to me.”

And I said, “Would you get your Priesthood Bulletin? Let’s read it together.” And so we found under the heading “Cola Drinks”: “… the leaders of the Church have advised, and we do now specifically advise, against use of any drink containing harmful habit-forming drugs. …” (The Priesthood Bulletin, Feb. 1972, p. 4.)

He said, “Well, you see, that doesn’t mean cola.”

I said, “Well, I guess you will have to come to your own grips with that, but to me, there is no question.” You see, there can’t be the slightest particle of rebellion, and in him there is. We can find loopholes in a lot of things if we want to bend the rules of the Church.

He’s a rather handsome young man, with blue eyes and a quick smile. Seated behind his keyboard, Ryan Moody fiddles for a moment with a few adjustments, then easily slides into the introduction of a song. The music sounds as good as anything you hear on the radio, but it’s new. He says, “This is a song I wrote.” Then he begins to sing. Just listening, the song takes you out of yourself. The sound is rich and full, but personal as well. After a moment you can’t resist taking a hard look at Ryan. The music introduces another part of Ryan. It seems to free his spirit from the chair his body must stay in. The music reveals something about him that your eye doesn’t always see.

Born with spina bifida, or a hole in his spine, Ryan has spent nearly his entire 18 years in a wheelchair. At first, doctors feared he might be mentally retarded, but Ryan was a sweet, lively child who has grown into an intelligent, talented young man, a young man with some special talents for music and for people.

Ryan doesn’t regard his chair as an impediment but as a help. “I get around a lot quicker this way.” He gives credit to his friends for helping him not feel any different. “My friends don’t let me think about it at all. They always forget that I’m in a wheelchair because they’ll go over tons of grass or something that is hard for me to get over, and they’ll say, ‘Come on, Ryan. Whoops, we forgot!’”

Ryan is a priest in the Tigard Oregon Second Ward. He serves as first assistant in his priests quorum and as a home teacher. He enjoys helping the bishop with the less-active members of the priests quorum and plays the organ for church. The bishop says, “Ryan seems to know how to bridge the gap between the groups in our ward.”

Ryan recently received his patriarchal blessing, which promised him in part that he would be able to influence the lives of youth wherever they may be and convince them of the blessings the Lord has in store for them and the opportunities that are theirs. Ryan’s greatest wish is to serve a mission, although his condition will not allow it. “I can’t believe that others with the opportunity to serve a mission will not go,” said Ryan. “It’s the thing I would like to do more than anything.”

Ryan started learning about music when he was two years old. His parents put a set of stereo headphones on him and, instead of yanking them off, he was fascinated. He started piano lessons at seven and had to be pushed into practicing like most people. As he learned to play, he and his mother discovered his talent. “I never did like the endings of pieces in books. I would just start making up new endings.” Several years later they discovered that Ryan had perfect pitch. Then he started writing music and performing on a variety of keyboard instruments. He has won numerous awards for his musical talent—composing, performing, and singing. He was voted the most talented in his ninth-grade class.

Once when Ryan was giving a talk at a grade school, one student asked him how it feels to be handicapped. Ryan answered by asking, “Well, how does it feel to be human?” What Ryan couldn’t say in that particular situation was that the Church has really helped him. “I think a lot of disabled people get caught up thinking, ‘I can’t do this, and my life is just going to be a waste.’ Isn’t it 1 Samuel 16:7 that says the Lord looks not on the outer appearance, but on the heart? [1 Sam. 16:7] That’s kind of important to me.”

Music has helped Ryan reach out to others and set a good example. He teaches keyboard and composition classes in a special summer school program. One friend was very discouraged and turned to Ryan for advice. He told her to go home and turn the radio to a classical station instead of the usual hard rock she was accustomed to listening to. “She followed my advice,” Ryan said. “The next day she thanked me and said she didn’t feel one bit discouraged.”

As Ryan was participating in a school quartet, he found that the song selected for the group to sing had lyrics he objected to. Ryan talked to the teacher about changing the words, but the teacher became angry. Ryan was hurt by the teacher’s reaction. After school, the teacher asked to speak to him and apologized for getting upset. “She said that what I had done took courage,” said Ryan. “She said she admired me for standing up for what I believed in and that she was willing to work with me because she really wanted me in the quartet.”

Just like most teenage boys, Ryan likes girls. And girls like him. His dad teases him about how much time he spends on the phone talking to young ladies, and his mother says that when he goes to stake dances, he dances every dance. He’s become quite creative at moving his chair in time to the music. “I’m still working on the slow dances,” he says.

About dating, Ryan says, “Sometimes it’s kind of tricky because girls seem to like me, but dating is a different situation. They don’t want to shy away, but they do because they don’t always know how to act. When we do go out, it is really neat because they just help me get in the van and we go.” Ryan as some advice for girls when a guy in a wheelchair asks for a date. “Ask yourself, ‘Is he a nice person?’ and then go from there. If he is and you really like him, then just forget about everything else.”

One of the most beautiful stories in our heritage, an experience of President Heber J. Grant’s, bears witness that a testimony about the right relationship between life, death, and the spirit world can comfort us in times of sorrow, help us understand God’s purposes, and teach us the true nature of our existence. President Grant writes:
“I have been blessed with only two sons. One of them died at five years of age and the other at seven. My last son died of a hip disease. I had built great hopes that he would live to spread the Gospel at home and abroad and be an honor to me. About an hour before he died I had a dream that his mother, who was dead, came for him, and that she brought with her a messenger, and she told his messenger to take the boy while I was asleep; and in the dream I thought I awoke and I seized my son and fought for him and finally succeeded in getting him away from the messenger who had come to take him, and in so doing I dreamed that I stumbled and fell upon him.
“I dreamed that I fell upon his sore hip, and the terrible cries and anguish of the child drove me nearly wild. I could not stand it and I jumped up and ran out of the house so as not to hear his distress. I dreamed that after running out of the house I met Brother Joseph E. Taylor and told him of these things.
“He said: ‘Heber, do you know what I would do if my wife came for one of her children—I would not struggle to keep that child; I would not oppose her taking that child away. If a mother who had been faithful had passed beyond the veil, she would know of the suffering and the anguish her child may have to suffer; she would know whether that child might go through life as a cripple and whether it would be better or wiser for that child to be relieved from the torture of life; and when you stop to think, Brother Grant, that the mother of that boy went down into the shadow of death to give him life, she is the one who ought to have the right to take him or keep him.’
“I said, ‘I believe you are right, Brother Taylor, and if she comes again, she shall have the boy without any protest on my part.’
“After coming to that conclusion, I was waked by my brother, B. F. Grant, who was staying that night with us, helping to watch over the sick boy. He called me into the room and told me that my child was dying. I went in the front room and sat down. There was a vacant chair between me and my wife who is now living, and I felt the presence of that boy’s deceased mother, sitting in that chair. I did not tell anybody what I felt, but I turned to my living wife and said: ‘Do you feel anything strange?’ She said: ‘Yes, I feel assured that Heber’s mother is sitting between us, waiting to take him away.’
“Now, I am naturally, I believe, a sympathetic man. I was raised as an only child, with all the affection that a mother could lavish upon a boy. I believe that I am naturally affectionate and sympathetic and that I shed tears for my friends—tears of joy for their success and tears of sorrow for their misfortunes. But I sat by the deathbed of my little boy and saw him die, without shedding a tear. My living wife, my brother, and I, upon that occasion experienced a sweet, peaceful, and heavenly influence in my home, as great as I have ever experienced in my life.” (Improvement Era, June 1940, pp. 330,383.)