Gospel Story Finder

Carlos was too small to walk the dog or mow the lawn. But he was big enough to help.
He could help Dad wash the dishes, and he could help Mom fold clothes.
One day Carlos was helping Grandpa pull weeds when Mrs. Lopez walked past.
“I need to pull my weeds today too,” she said.
Mrs. Lopez looks busy, Carlos thought. When she went inside, he grabbed a big bucket and started pulling weeds in her flowerbed.
Carlos worked until the weeds were all gone. Then he grabbed his bucket and hurried back to his house.
Mom’s probably cooking dinner, Carlos thought. And I’m big enough to help!

Gary and Tommy were building a bridge. It had rained that day, and the rain had made a little brook through Gary’s backyard.

“I’m going to be an engineer when I grow up,” declared Gary. “I’m going to build bridges just like the ones my daddy builds.”

“I’m going to be a truck driver,” announced Tommy. “I’m going to drive a great big trailer truck. I’ll bet my truck will be the biggest in the whole world!”

“It better not be too big,” said Gary, “or it can’t go under or over some bridges.” Then he ran over to the garage to get another board. His family had just moved in, and there were plenty of boards from the empty furniture crates. Gary’s toys hadn’t come yet, so the boys were playing with Tommy’s big blue truck.

“I’m going to load my truck with rocks,” Tommy said, “and drive it over the bridge.”

“The bridge isn’t ready yet,” said Gary. “Wait till I get this board in place.”

But Tommy wouldn’t wait. “Here I come,” he said, and started his truck along the road toward the bridge. It was a muddy road, but Tommy pushed and pushed till he got his truck up onto the narrow bridge. Then one wheel went off the edge, and the whole truck with its load of stones fell into the brook.

“I’ll help you pick them up,” said Gary.

“You leave them alone,” said Tommy. “They’re my rocks. If you’d built your old bridge better, my truck wouldn’t have gone off the edge.”

Tommy started picking his rocks out of the water. When he turned around, Gary was backing the truck down so he could help put the rocks back in. Tommy dropped the rocks and grabbed his truck. “That’s my truck!” Tommy said. And away he ran, leaving Gary all by himself.

Gary looked puzzled, but after a minute he began to work on the bridge again. “It’s going to be a four-lane bridge,” he said to himself, “just like the one Daddy is building.”

Tommy ran into the kitchen as soon as he got home. “Mom,” he called, “Gary pushed my truck into the water.”

“That’s too bad,” Tommy’s mother said. “How did it happen?”

“We were building a bridge, and Gary didn’t make it wide enough, and my truck fell off into the water and got all wet.”

“Oh,” said Tommy’s mother. “I thought you said Gary pushed it.”

Tommy didn’t say anything for a minute. His mother took a pan of cookies out of the oven. Reluctantly Tommy said, “I guess he didn’t really push it. But it’s my truck and Gary didn’t have any right to play with it.”

“Whose bridge were you driving it over?” asked Tommy’s mother.

“Well,” said Tommy finally, “we both started to build it, but I guess the boards were Gary’s.” Then he turned and started to go back outdoors. “I don’t care,” he said. “He can’t have my truck. I’m going to play in my sandbox!” Tommy slammed the door.

Tommy made a road in his sandbox, but when he tried to run his truck on it, the road wasn’t big enough for the truck to turn the corners. He looked for some boards to make a bridge up to the sandbox, but he couldn’t find any. Tommy tried pushing two trucks to make believe he was two truck drivers, but that wasn’t much fun. He sat down on the back steps to think.

At last Tommy got up and went slowly into the kitchen. “Mom,” he asked, “may I go back over to Gary’s yard to play?”

“What would you play with?” asked his mother.

“I’ll take Gary one of my trucks,” said Tommy. “Then we’ll each have one.”

Tommy’s mother smiled. “Would you like to load some cookies onto your trucks? I’ll wrap them in waxed paper for you.”

“Thanks, Mom!” said Tommy.

Two minutes later Tommy was back in Gary’s yard, holding a truck carefully in each hand so as not to spill the cookies. “Gary!” he called. “I brought you a truck.”

“That’s neat,” said Gary. “See, I’ve built the bridge wide enough so that we can both go over it at the same time.”

“That’ll be fun,” said Tommy. “I guess bridge builders and truck drivers have to work together.”

“I guess ’most everybody does,” said Gary.

There is an interesting example in the history of the Church that illustrates the difference between doubting—which often leads to darkness and uncertainty—and patient and intelligent inquiry—which leads to understanding and spiritual confirmation. When the Prophet Joseph Smith received the vision concerning the three degrees of glory, which is in section 76 of the Doctrine and Covenants, many members of the Church, including Brigham Young, initially had a difficult time accepting it as a revelation from the Lord because it departed significantly from the mainstream Christian view of one heaven and one hell. However, listen to how Brigham chose to respond: “My traditions were such, that when the Vision came first to me, it was so directly contrary and opposite to my former education, I said, wait a little, I did not reject it, but I could not understand it.”

Brigham decided to exercise patience, to pray, to ponder, and to seek clarification from the prophet. But while he sought further understanding, he did not let go of what he had come to love in the restored gospel. And soon, he obtained his own witness from the Holy Ghost.

As our youngest son, Clark, was approaching his 12th birthday, he and I were leaving the Church Administration Building when President Harold B. Lee approached and greeted us. I mentioned that Clark would soon be 12, whereupon President Lee turned to him and asked, “What happens to you when you turn 12?”
This was one of those times when a father prays that a son will be inspired to give a proper response. Clark, without hesitation, said to President Lee, “I will be ordained a deacon!”
The answer was the one President Lee had sought. He then counseled our son, “Remember, it is a great blessing to hold the priesthood.”

—Lisa, a high school sophomore, tells about the time the quarterback of the football team asked her to the homecoming dance.
“I couldn’t believe my luck,” she said. “One of the most high-profile guys in the school had asked me to the most prestigious dance of the year.”
Her enthusiasm dampened, though, when after the dance her date started driving down a lonely road she realized led to Lover’s Lane. Quarterback or no quarterback, she had decided long ago that “parking” was something she would not do.
To avoid embarrassment, she began talking about how this particular road reminded her of a friend’s experience. The police had caught her friend and a date parking up there, and had taken them to the police station.
“Of course, anyone who is silly enough to park deserves what they get,” she laughed. Without speaking, her date turned the car around, and a few minutes later they were sitting in her living room eating pie with her parents.

Just remember this—and I hope my daughter will not mind a little personal experience. One day I came home a little earlier than usual, and my wife and she were having a little confrontation in the hall. It had something to do with straightening rooms and doing some other remedial chores. The minute I walked on the scene my wife said, “Your daughter needs help.”
I stepped in as the priesthood bearer and started to talk to my daughter, and she snapped back. It was a day of the blahs. She said, “I finally figured out why I was born in this house.”
I inquired, “Why were you born in this house?”
She said, “To do your dishes.”
So I said very quickly, “Now, hold on before you get too frisky. Let me remind you of a very important principle. I don’t know how you and I ended up in this house together—although I’m delighted with the arrangement—but before you came here, and before I came here, you and I sat in a great council and we heard two plans presented. And you voted for the Savior’s plan. Don’t blame me; you’re here because you voted to come. I’m glad with the arrangement, but I ended up being your father. And I’m here to enforce your vote.”
Do you know what she said? “Let’s put it to another vote.”
“We can’t; you’re here. I already know how you voted. You’re telling me by your personal appearance here that you voted for the Savior.” That is a marvelous thing to know, is it not? You were sent here to succeed in whatever you were called upon to do, and succeed you will—but occasionally you have to overcome the blahs.

After my childhood challenges, I am confident that Heavenly Father knew exactly what I needed to enable me to trust my eternal companion. He placed many steadfast examples of fatherhood in my life. These included my righteous grandfather, who loved the Lord, and a diligent home teacher who—understanding my family’s financial limitations—took me on as a student at his art studio and inspired me to follow in his footsteps professionally. In my young adult life, heavenly healing was also delivered through the unexpected blessing of gaining a righteous stepfather, who was patient with my hesitancy to trust a father figure and who continually showed me kindness.

When I was a child in Scotland, I was also looking for hope. We were a poor, little family—my mother and four children, of which I was the oldest. After my parents’ divorce when I was five, there came a stepfather who was not a good man. We hadn’t experienced much love at home. My mother cleaned houses to make ends meet. Life was tough.
When I was 10, I went to a gospel mission hall. The teacher was without question a disciple of Jesus Christ. One Sunday he taught us about Zaccheus. The Savior visited Zaccheus at home, and Zaccheus became a changed man. He said that he gave away half of his goods to the poor and that if he had wronged any man, he gave back four times as much as he had taken. Jesus said salvation had come to the house of Zaccheus, “for the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost” (Luke 19:10). Although I was young, I found myself wondering if salvation could come to my home. Did Jesus know me? If I was lost, could He find me?
Then when I was 12, Latter-day Saint missionaries started visiting us. Whenever they were in our home, we felt a sense of peace and sheer goodness. Those were unusual feelings for us at that time. I wanted those feelings in my life all of the time, not just when the elders were with us.
I started to believe that salvation could come to our home. The missionaries helped me understand that Heavenly Father knows each of us individually. They explained that He is so anxious to bless us that He sent His Son to save us. I felt that the Savior had found us. I embraced the gospel with gratitude and was baptized a month before my 13th birthday. I received the Aaronic Priesthood and started to pass the sacrament, which seemed like a great honor, knowing that the first sacrament was blessed and passed by Jesus Himself.
I felt as though our family expanded to include the entire ward. We were immediately given opportunities to serve, and it was a wonderful feeling. Through my early Church life I gained hope. There were better days ahead. It was possible to feel a sense of belonging. We were important to Heavenly Father.
Our life didn’t suddenly change. We still had difficulties—of course we did. My mother married another bad man, an alcoholic, so there were still hard days and harsh times. But I now had an entirely different sense about the future. The gospel allowed me to rise above my challenges and feel abiding peace.
I couldn’t do anything about the family circumstances of my youth—alcoholism, poverty, and divorce. But when I was 15, I made a major decision: “I will change the future—for myself and for the children I will someday have. My unhappy family history will not be passed on.” I felt the Holy Ghost prompting me to build a good life.
As young people, we go through all kinds of situations. Mine were quite dramatic and might not apply to everyone. But there will be something that affects each person deeply. Bad things can happen to good people. You may feel a quiet desperation, or you may feel that your life looks bleak.
The good news is that you get to shape your future. Whoever you are, wherever you are, whatever your condition may be, you can have a happy and fulfilled life if you stay close to the gospel and place your faith in Jesus Christ. In Gethsemane He experienced total agony—mental, spiritual, physical, and emotional—all of that piled on top of Him. I can’t describe it because it is indescribable, but He did it. And because of what He endured, He understands when we’re suffering, anxious, hurt, afraid, sick, injured, or abused. He understands everything. He will help you.
In many dark midnight hours, during my teenage years and also later in life, there have been times when I have felt as though I were weeping at the Savior’s feet, pleading for a blessing. Figuratively I have felt Him leaning down, picking me up, putting His arms around me, and blessing me with love. And this I know: as His disciple you are entitled to His help and He will turn everything to your good. That is the hope of the gospel.

I recently felt irritated as I scrolled through my Instagram feed and felt perfectly justified in my unkind feelings toward some of my friends. After all, they seemed to live shiny, golden lives filled with one fantastic adventure after another. I felt conflicted but rationalized my feelings. “These people!” I scoffed.
My scoffs and eye rolls evaporated one morning when I read Moroni 7:4: “And now my brethren, I judge these things of you because of your peaceable walk with the children of men.” At this time, Moroni was sharing the words of his father, Mormon, to the Church members. Mormon spoke to the “peaceable followers of Christ” about faith, hope, and charity (Moroni 7:3).
In this marvelous chapter, the Lord teaches how we can have a “peaceable walk” among men. In my negative and certainly unfair attitude toward my fellow social media users, I was not walking very peaceably. Rather, I’d been slinking along, secretly grumbling at others’ successes. I was like a “bitter fountain” not bringing forth “good water,” or not being Christlike in my thoughts and feelings toward others (Moroni 7:11).
I’ve talked to many social media users who feel irrationally bitter or depressed when scrolling through their friends’ posts and pictures. Spending a little less time on social media is one way to avoid these feelings. Of course, many of us enjoy keeping tabs on our family members, friends, and acquaintances via social media. When those unsettling feelings creep in, however, how can we maintain a “peaceable walk with the children of men”? The scripture uses the preposition with. In life, we should not be against each other—we should be with each other; we should be one.
American author Mark Twain is credited with saying, “Comparison is the death of joy.” Sometimes it’s a challenge not to make comparisons. But filling our hearts with humility enables us to delight in others’ shiny moments instead of begrudging them. The Lord asks us to “walk in the meekness of my Spirit, and you shall have peace in me” (D&C 19:23).
It’s equally important to not invite comparisons. We can ask ourselves some questions before sharing a post. “What is my intent? Is it to exclude someone or cause jealousy?” If so, rethink your sharing. But if it’s just to share something you’re super excited about or to uplift others, go for it.
Mormon also spoke about serving others with “real intent” (Moroni 7:6). We can adopt this real intent when we sincerely hope for others’ happiness. This means being excited for our friend when she posts a selfie with her new outfit or for our friend who posts that he was just voted class president. Whether our social media friends are embarking on a trip we can only dream of or are sharing their academic or sporting achievements, we can celebrate with them.
Living peaceably just feels better. Eliminating the eye rolls and dropping the burden of jealousy helps us to walk with others, not away from them or against them.
One friend described social media as a “highlight reel” of life’s events. Most people aren’t inclined to share pictures of embarrassing situations, grief, or even a bad-hair day. Everyone experiences life’s ups and downs, and it’s important to remember that social media users typically share the ups.
It’s funny how much we allow social media to affect our view of our worth. President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, once asked, “Do you think your value to [Heavenly Father] changes based on how many followers you have on Instagram or Pinterest? Do you think He wants you to worry or get depressed if some un-friend or un-follow you on Facebook or Twitter? Do you think … popularity make[s] the slightest difference in your worth to the One who created the universe?”1

During the summer of 1996, our family hosted two musicians from a Russian folk-dance group. I had recently given my husband a subscription to the Liahona (Russian), and one morning, one of our guests started to look through the June 1996 issue. He got out his reading glasses and closely studied a particular page. Then he shared that page with our other Russian guest. I learned later that the item in the magazine that had caused such great interest was “The Family: A Proclamation to the World,” issued by the First Presidency and Council of the Twelve Apostles.
At the end of the week, as they prepared to leave, our guests asked for only one souvenir—the magazine with the family proclamation in it. We gladly gave it to them—hopefully along with good experiences with our own family.
Victoria Morris,Bountiful 41st Ward, Bountiful Utah Heights Stake

I was having a difficult time in school one year. I was shy and didn’t make friends easily. One evening, I decided to go for a walk to find some relief.
I found a secluded corner and spent some time pondering and praying about what I wanted. Feeling as if no one understood me, I desperately longed to have someone in my life who could see me for what I was inside, for what I could be. I wanted someone who knew all my faults yet still loved me. I wanted someone who realized that I was (and still am) trying so hard to be better. I didn’t want to feel so alone all the time.
I don’t know how long I was there, but I poured my heart and soul out to Heavenly Father. I cried until I didn’t think I could cry anymore. Then I stood up and started walking back home. As I was walking, I looked down at my shadow. Instead of the usual one shadow, I had two. It wasn’t a miracle or anything; it was just the effect of multiple streetlamps. But when I saw those two shadows, the thought came into my head: “You are never alone. You’ll never walk alone.” I know now that this thought came from the Holy Ghost and that this experience was a blessing to comfort me. That one simple thought reminded me that things would work out and that Heavenly Father knows me perfectly.
Since that day, there have been many more instances where those exact words have reminded me of what God has already told me. For example, once when I asked a priesthood holder to give me a blessing of comfort after the death of a friend, without knowing about my previous experience, he told me in the blessing, “You are never alone.” The exact same words! It was such a sweet and gentle reminder to trust Him and remember that everything will be all right.
Through prayer and the Holy Ghost, Heavenly Father can always be with me, so I always have someone I can rely on. Because of these wonderful experiences, I know of God’s great love for me.

At a Young Women leadership meeting in Eugene, Oregon, I had the privilege of meeting and talking with Sister Cammy Wilberger. The story Sister Wilberger shared with me was a witness of the power and blessing of one young woman’s knowing, living, and loving the gospel.
Sister Wilberger’s 19-year-old daughter, Brooke, was tragically killed several years ago while on summer break after her first year at university. Sister Wilberger recalled, “It was a difficult and dark time for our family. However, Brooke had given us a great gift. We didn’t recognize this as she was growing up, but every single year and moment of her brief life, Brooke had given us the greatest gift a daughter could give her parents. Brooke was a righteous daughter of God. … Because of this gift and especially because of the enabling power of the Atonement, I have had strength, comfort, and the Savior’s promised peace. I have no question where Brooke is now and look forward to our loving reunion.”9

Like many people who pursue unusual careers, Shawn was concerned at one time with the question of whether or not his career would conflict with his feelings about the Church.
“After I had been in college three years, I wanted to rodeo for a while, and I was worried about the apparent contrast of ideals in my two worlds—the Church and the rodeo. I worried and prayed about it and spent time thinking it over. Then I realized the right answer for me was very simple. I knew the Church was true, and as long as I did the right thing and lived my religion, I couldn’t be doing wrong. I was then at peace with myself, and the Church has turned out to be one of my biggest assets on the rodeo circuit. I have been the subject of a lot of publicity because I am different. Writers casually mention that I am a Mormon cowboy and then go on to explain some of our beliefs. There are a lot of good Catholics and Methodists and other religions represented on the circuit, but their religions never seem to be mentioned.”

Richard set about building a home and planting a field of wheat. A hailstorm destroyed his crop, however, and he and his wife and infant son faced a winter with no income and little food. Despite these hardships, Richard was inspired with an idea, one that he could not ignore. He wanted to start a Sunday School for the children in the valley. With his bishop’s approval, Richard began construction on an adobe building in which to hold Sunday School. He worked long hours hauling sandstone and logs, plastering walls, and making benches.
At last it was finished. On December 9, 1849, the first Sunday School in Salt Lake Valley was held. Richard led the children in a song, said a prayer, read a short scripture, then began to tell the story of Jesus. Years later he declared, “I was early called to this work by the voice of the spirit, and I have felt many times that I have been ordained to this work before I was born, for even before I joined the Church I was moved upon to work for the young. Surely no more joyful nor profitable labor can be performed by an elder.”
For four years Richard planted crops, and for four years the crops failed. He resolutely continued with the Sunday School, though, and found peace and satisfaction in teaching the children.

I hearkened back to the teachings that came from my home: I was taught obedience as a very young man. I’m happy for that teaching. I’ll never forget the time when I was eighteen and signed a professional baseball contract. As I was ready to go to spring training for the first time, my mother said, “Glen, I’ve got a piece of advice for you.”
“Yes, Mother dear, what would that be?”
“Put on a clean pair of socks every day.”
I thought, “Gee, that’s good advice.” But after the eighth day I couldn’t even get my shoes on. As a result of that training, when I was asked to occupy this position, I immediately said yes.

How grateful I am for the power of example. The New Era truly sets a good example for the youth of today—our leaders of tomorrow. I’m thankful to a friend of mine who set an example for me four years ago when I was 18 by asking me if I would listen to the missionaries. I did and was shortly thereafter baptized. Now I am on a mission serving the Lord—supported by my non-LDS family. I hope I am setting an example for them. Thank you, Mike Johnson, for sharing the gospel.
Elder Chris D. AxentyIdaho Pocatello Mission

After my baptism in 1994, I told my Heavenly Father that I desired to be useful to him and that I would serve in our branch as best as I could. In 1995, I was called to serve as the branch president.
Sometimes my tasks are hard, and there have been many challenges, especially during my first months of service. But when I kneel down and ask Heavenly Father for his help, he never denies me his support.
Michele Bartoli,Lecce Branch, Italy Catania Mission

Some years back, Terry, a deacon, was at Tracy Wigwam on an overnight camp. That night a full moon hung overhead. The adviser took Terry by the arm and said, “Let’s go for a walk.” They went several hundred feet from the cabins. The adviser said, “Terry, let’s kneel here and have a prayer.” They knelt together and prayed. After the prayer Terry’s adviser said to him, “Terry, do you pray?” Terry answered that he did not. “Terry, will you commit to pray every day all the rest of your life?”
Terry said, “I never made a commitment unless I intended to keep it.” He thought about prayer and decided it was right. It was a good thing. He said to his adviser, “Yes, I will pray all the rest of my life.”
Terry, who went on to high school, then quarterbacked for the University of Utah where he was all-conference, and went on to play for the Pittsburgh Steelers, said, “I have kept that commitment, and I have prayed every morning and night since that day.” And Terry is here tonight.

The Samoan way is much more than shared chores. It’s about lifting each other to a higher place whenever possible. And for a lot of families, that includes siblings helping siblings with the cost of their education.
“I work in the city to help provide money for my family, including paying for my younger brother’s schooling,” Sefa explains.
This sacrifice means a lot to Don. “This makes me feel closer to my brother,” he says. “I love him and appreciate what he’s doing for me.”
Sefa also knows that Don will ultimately be able to pay it forward. He likes to imagine the man his younger brother will grow to be. “I know that someday Don will do great things for his own family,” Sefa says. He wants his brother to have every shot at success.
Once again, it’s the Samoan way. They help build each other’s future.

Sometimes we need strength because life is hard for us. Christy wanted to memorize the articles of faith and earn her Gospel in Action award. It was extra hard for her because she has cerebral palsy. Christy had faith that the Lord would help her. She listened to the song tapes of the Articles of Faith over and over. She practiced until she could sing them all—and earned her award. Her family and friends were blessed by her good example.