Gospel Story Finder

One Saturday morning I was on my way to fulfill an assignment on a welfare farm. We were to clean the weeds out of an irrigation ditch. My route took me past the home of an elderly widow in my ward, who was weeding her front yard. The temperature was already in the mid-eighties and she looked like she was near to having sunstroke. For a fleeting moment I thought I should stop and lend a helping hand, but my conscience allowed me to drive on by because, after all, I had an assignment on the welfare farm. I wonder what would have happened if I had followed the spontaneous prompting of the Spirit and unleashed the genuine compassion I was feeling. I wonder what would have happened to her; I wonder what would have happened to me. But I couldn’t do that because I hadn’t been assigned. We need more spontaneous acts of compassionate service.

How did this unlikely friendship start? With one returned missionary named Van Evans. Brother Evans served his mission in Peru and now serves as a volunteer in an organization called the Humanitarian Foundation of the Andes. He told some of the youth and their leaders about the kinds of items that were needed in towns throughout the Andes. These items included basics like clothing, hygiene supplies, and building materials. After careful consideration, the youth decided to make Urubamba a part of their youth conference.

The original goal was to supply good Sunday clothes for each member of the LDS branch in Urubamba. Brekke Platt, a Laurel who served on the youth council, explained, “We didn’t want people to feel they couldn’t go to church because they didn’t have Sunday clothes.”

The young men and young women asked for donations from stake members. The results were overwhelming: more than 90 men’s suits were donated, as well as countless women’s dresses and children’s Sunday clothes.

Be slow to judge. From a graduate school textbook I read of an account which substantiates the wisdom of this advice. In a large factory with multiple machines, the employees had to work as a team to be successful. On a particular machine the crew was handicapped by one worker frequently arriving late. The foreman reprimanded the tardy person and told him, “If you come to work late again, you’re fired!”
The very next day the recalcitrant was again late. The class was asked, “What would you do if you were the foreman?”
About half the class said, “I would keep my word and fire the person.” The balance took pity and answered, “I’d give him another chance.” The instructor then gave us the correct answer: “I would ask him why he was late. His tardiness could well be fully legitimate.”

When Peggy told me her husband, John, after 31 years of marriage, was going to be baptized, I asked what had changed.
Peggy said, “John and I were studying the New Testament Come, Follow Me, and John asked about Church doctrine.”
Peggy said, “Let’s invite the missionaries.”
John said, “No missionaries—unless my friend can come.” Over 10 years, John’s ministering brother had become his trusted friend. (I thought, What if John’s ministering brother had stopped coming after one, two, or nine years?)
John listened. He read the Book of Mormon with real intent. When the missionaries invited John to be baptized, he said yes. Peggy said, “I fell off my chair and started to cry.”
John said, “I changed as I drew closer to the Lord.” Later, John and Peggy were sealed in the holy temple. Last December, John passed away at age 92. Peggy says, “John was always a good person, but he became different in a beautiful way after he was baptized.”

When our son Eli was in fourth grade, his class set up a mock government where he was elected by his peers to serve as class judge. One day a sitting judge from the Utah 2nd District Court visited, put his official robes on Eli, and then administered an oath of office for their class. This ignited in Eli’s young, impressionable soul a passion for studying law and the Lawgiver Himself, Jesus Christ.
After years of diligent effort, Eli received an invitation for an interview with one of his top choices for law school. He pronounced, “… The final question was, ‘Where do you derive your moral compass?’ … I stated if all of humanity abided by the teachings of Jesus Christ in the Sermon on the Mount, the world would be a better, more peaceful place.” Then the interview ended, and he thought to himself, “There go my childhood dreams. No one in secular academia wants to hear about Jesus Christ.”
Two weeks later, Eli was admitted with a scholarship. Before committing, we visited the campus. … Remarkably, as we walked through the magnificent library and stately corridors, we found on banners and carved in stone attributes from the Sermon on the Mount.

Whenever it is our ward’s turn to clean the ward meetinghouse, I always go with my dad. Usually we are the only ones there. As soon as I finish, I have a good feeling inside. I know that if you help out when you get the chance, you will be blessed.

When I was called to the Quorum of the Seventy, Sister Afton Pedigrew, one of my faithful Primary teachers, was at a meeting at which I spoke. She told me, “If someone had told me thirty years ago that Ronnie Rasband would someday be a General Authority, I wouldn’t have believed it.” But tears were flowing from her eyes, and I could hear a quiver in her voice as she complimented me in her sweet way and said as my Primary teacher that she was proud of me. There were tears in my eyes, too.

You can make the sun shineSometimes a cross word comes easily when you’re with a little brother or sister. But it only takes a hug, a smile, and a kind word to bring the sun out again and fill a little heart with joy.You’re rarely closer to heaven than when you’re close to a little child.

For generations it has inspired those who read it. Herbert Schreiter had read his German translation of the Book of Mormon. In it he read:
“When ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.
“And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.”
Herbert Schreiter tested the promise and joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
In 1946, released as a prisoner of war, Herbert returned to his wife and three little daughters in Leipzig, Germany. Soon thereafter, he went as a missionary to Bernburg, Germany. Alone, without a companion, he sat cold and hungry in a room, wondering how he should begin.
He thought of what he had to offer the war-devastated people. He printed by hand a placard which read, “Will there be a further life after death?” and posted it on a wall.
About that same time, a family from a small village in Poland came to Bernburg.
Manfred Schütze was four years old. His father had been killed in the war. His mother, with his grandparents, and his mother’s sister, also a widow, and her two little girls, were forced to evacuate their village with only 30 minutes’ notice. They grabbed what they could and headed west. Manfred and his mother pulled and pushed a small cart. At times, the ailing grandfather rode in the cart. One Polish officer looked at the pathetic little Manfred and began to weep.
At the border, soldiers ransacked their belongings and threw their bedding into the river. Manfred and his mother were then separated from the family. His mother wondered if they might have gone to Bernburg, where her grandmother was born, perhaps to relatives there. After weeks of unbelievable suffering, they arrived in Bernburg and found the family.
The seven of them lived together in one small room. But their troubles were not over. The mother of the two little girls died. The grieving grandmother cried out for a preacher, and asked, “Will I see my family again?”
The preacher answered, “My dear lady, there is no such thing as the Resurrection. They who are dead are dead!”
They wrapped the body in a paper bag for burial.
On the way from the grave, the grandfather talked of taking their own lives, as many others had done. Just then they saw the placard that Elder Schreiter had posted on the building—“Is there further life after death?”—with an invitation from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. At a meeting, they learned of the Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ.
They joined the Church. Soon their lives changed. The grandfather found work as a baker and could provide bread for his family and also for Elder Schreiter, who had given them “the bread of life.”
Then help came from the Church in the United States. Manfred grew up eating grain out of little sacks with a picture of a beehive on them and peaches from California. He wore clothes from the welfare supplies of the Church.
Manfred Schütze is now a member of the Third Quorum of Seventy and supervises our seminaries in Eastern Europe. His mother, now 88, still attends the temple at Freiberg where Herbert Schreiter once served as a counselor to the president.

“Why don’t you ever come with us?” the girl shouted. “Don’t you want to be a part of our group?”
It was the end of spring, and school was almost out. During breaks we played football outside, and I was the goalkeeper. As goalkeeper I was used to dodging and blocking oncoming attacks from the field. However, this game was different because I had to dodge and block attacks coming from the sidelines too.
In between the offensive assaults of the other team, I was being interrogated by a couple of girls in my class who were standing on the side of the field. To avoid their questioning, I would have welcomed the other team over for a free shooting contest, but I was not having much luck that day.
“So why don’t you ever come to our parties?” she continued. “Don’t you want to have a little fun?”
“A little fun!” I thought. Being at a party with my classmates, playing silly games, and feeling forced into uncomfortable situations was not my idea of fun. I’d rather stay at home.
“We’re all trying to get to know one another, and you are never there,” came another attack from the sideline.
“That’s right!” I said. And I would have explained why if I felt she and the others really wanted to understand. But I doubted it. How could they? I was the only Latter-day Saint in my school, and none of them understood much about the Church or its standards.
“Don’t you like any of the girls in our class?” she asked.
“It’s not about not liking them,” I said. “I’d just feel uncomfortable.”
“But why?” she poked.
My team had just lost the ball, and all the guys were now running in my direction.
“Why would you feel uncomfortable?” she poked again.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion as my eyes focused on the approaching ball. Her voice was the only thing I heard, and the constant “why,” “why” kept echoing in my head. My opponent was clear for the shot, and I could see that the ball was going to hit me hard. But I was ready. He kicked the ball, which bounced off my hands with a loud slap. “Yes! Another assault successfully frustrated,” I thought, grinning. I grabbed the ball and threw it down the field to my teammates and then turned to face my other opponents.
“So?” she said.
My heart was still racing from the excitement of the game. “The reason I’m not coming to your parties is …” I started, then paused, thinking for a moment.
“Is?” she repeated a little anxiously.
I looked down the field again to see the opposition approaching fast. My heart picked up a couple of beats, and I knew I had to finish what I started to say. “Is because I am saving myself for someone special!” I blurted out.
“What!” she exclaimed.
My opponents were upon me, and my attention was again fixed on the game. The ball whistled through the air, penetrating my defenses. The other team cheered, while the girls stood there laughing.
“Saving yourself for someone,” she said, giggling. “So what is her name?”
I felt embarrassed. Although I didn’t have anyone special in mind, I still knew that one day I would meet my future wife, and I needed to be worthy to take her to the temple. That’s why I didn’t go to their parties.
My hands still tingled and my heart continued to race as I walked home later, yet there was a slight grin on my face. I might have suffered humiliation on the field that day; however, I walked away feeling victorious.

When my oldest son became a deacon and an Eagle Scout, a picture of an eagle came to my mind as I thought of him and his future. We were living in Idaho near the base of the South Teton mountain, where we hiked together and watched the eagles soar. That picture in my mind gave me the feeling of Isaiah’s words:
“He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength.
“Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall:
“But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”1

In fact, with that oldest son, we had stopped hiking below the peak of the South Teton because my son grew weary. He wanted to stop. He said, “Will I always be sorry that we didn’t make it to the top? Dad, you go on—I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

I replied, “I’ll never be disappointed, and you’ll never be sorry. We’ll always remember that we climbed here together.” At the top of his height board, I carved an eagle and the inscription “On Eagles’ Wings.”

Over the years, my son soared higher as a missionary than I had imagined in my fondest hopes. In the challenges of the mission field, some of what he faced seemed to be above his reach. For the boy you lift, it may be, as it was for my son, that the Lord lifted him higher in preaching the gospel in a difficult language than I had thought possible. If you will try with any young man to sense his priesthood possibilities, I promise you the Lord will tell you as much as you need. The boy may have potential even beyond what the Lord will reveal to you. Help him aim high.

Some time ago three young boys were discussing their fathers. One spoke out, “My dad is bigger than your dad,” to which another replied, “Well, my dad is smarter than your dad.” The third boy countered, “My dad is a doctor.” Then, turning to one boy, he taunted in derision, “And your dad is only a teacher.”
When the boy heard the taunts: “My dad is bigger than yours,” “My dad is smarter than yours,” “My dad is a doctor,” well could he have replied, “Your dad may be bigger than mine; your dad may be smarter than mine; your dad may be a pilot, an engineer, or a doctor; but my dad is a teacher.”

When I was 14 years old, my sisters and I were the only members of the Church to attend our school in England. People began to discover that I was a Mormon, and it was not uncommon to have jokes or weird looks directed at me. While I did get questions, they were limited to rumor and gossip, and I soon grew tired of the negative attention. A lot of students simply avoided me. One girl in particular seemed quite wary of me. One day I bumped into her in the hall and felt that I should talk to her, but she would not talk, and without saying anything, she rushed away. This gave me the false resolve that church and school were two different worlds and should never meet.
A year later an American family moved into my ward, and their children attended my school. One of them, Annie, was in my year and soon became quite popular. I started seeing students from my school appearing at ward youth activities. One evening at a joint Young Men and Young Women activity, I saw the girl who had always avoided me. She was a friend of Annie’s, and she sheepishly came over to me. It turned out the reason she had avoided me was she had been told some outrageous stories about the Church, so she was afraid of talking to me. She ended up coming to seminary and taking the missionary discussions.
I realised that I had been wrong in keeping my two lives separate. Annie was the example that made me understand that I had missed so many opportunities for missionary work. I felt ashamed. If I had been more diligent, maybe I could have been a better example to those who might have been looking for the truth only the Church could provide.

Have you ever been to a restaurant where some of the food items on the menu are unfamiliar? In 2018, my wife and I went to a restaurant in Osaka, Japan. The menu had many options, most of which were unfamiliar and strange to us. One person in our group chose calamari (squid). But I did not like calamari, so I chose something else. Everyone selected something different from the menu. We all enjoyed our meals because we each chose a dish that appealed to us.

You do not need to eat calamari unless you like it. (By the way, after sampling excellent Japanese calamari, I have come to like it.) You can choose to invite others to learn about the gospel of Jesus Christ in ways that are comfortable and natural for you, using your own talents and abilities. Over time you may find that the range of things that are comfortable expands.

One time a cigarette company offered Rose Marie a lot of money to advertise their cigarettes. Rose Marie knew that smoking was against Heavenly Father’s commandments. She didn’t want to encourage other people to smoke. “You know the answer,” she said. “I couldn’t possibly support a cigarette company.”

President Smith also cherished tender memories of his mother’s abiding faith and willingness to sacrifice. During the eight years between Hyrum’s martyrdom in 1844 and Mary’s own death in 1852, she shepherded her family across the plains to the valley of the Great Salt Lake, established a home and farm, and nurtured the faith of her children. President Smith forever revered his mother’s willingness to “toil and labor and sacrifice herself day and night, for the temporal comforts and blessings that she could meagerly give … to her children.”9 In the midst of harsh and trying times, he found great comfort in her conviction: “The Lord will open the way.”10

Clara and her family had just been baptized. Clara liked going to church together on Sunday.
One Sunday the Primary president said there would be a Primary program soon.
“Can you read a scripture and bear your testimony in the Primary program?” she asked.
Clara nodded. She was excited! But she was nervous too. What if she made a mistake?
Clara practiced her part every night. She didn’t know all the words in the scripture yet.
“You’ll do great,” Mama said.
Clara wasn’t so sure. This was her first Primary program. All the other kids had done this before.
“Remember, if you do your best, Heavenly Father will do the rest,” Papa told her.
The night before the program, Clara prayed for help. She stayed on her knees and thought about her part. She felt good about it.
On Sunday morning Clara prayed that she wouldn’t be scared.
When it was her turn, Clara walked to the front. She messed up one of the words in the scripture. But then she remembered how good she felt after her prayer. She smiled and bore her testimony. She talked about how much she loved Jesus.
Clara smiled as she sat back down. She knew Heavenly Father didn’t care that she didn’t say her part perfectly. He cared what was in her heart.

Only a very few people in Finland dared to listen to anyone who talked of a new religion. Those who did were often hunted down, tried, and subjected to the most severe punishment possible under the law. One man who became a member of the Church was sentenced to 28 days’ imprisonment and allowed only small amounts of bread to eat and water to drink during the whole time of his solitary confinement.

Father’s hands
like knotted roots
teach me to plant
his burlap-balled
starter trees
as I dig holes
on the backyard hill
two feet down
in Cambrian stone
and white sand.
I use my hands
to plant pines
that will outlast me
through winters, reach up
between telephone wires,
the ringed years adding
circle on circle
for my posterity.

Thank you so much for the article called “What Does It Mean to Be Perfect?” (Jan. 2006). Lately, I have been unhappy with who I am and what I am achieving. I didn’t realize this was due to my perfectionist personality. As I read this article I knew that the Lord was watching out for me and blessing me. I am now learning how to deal with this perfectionism. Whenever I lose heart, I read this article again. I now know that I don’t have to be perfect immediately, but it is a process. Thank you for printing this article.Name withheld