Gospel Story Finder

A few years ago one of the members of our family had a remarkable dog named Ben. On a beautiful fall day, some of us were walking in the fields. Ben was going back and forth in front of us, sniffing the ground, tail wagging, obviously enjoying himself. After a while, Ben came limping up to his master and, with a pained look in his eye, held up his front paw. Between two of Ben’s toes was a thorn. The thorn was carefully removed, and Ben ran off, no longer limping nor bothered by the pain. I was amazed that Ben instinctively seemed to know that the thorn needed to come out to relieve the pain and to know where to go to have it removed. Like Ben, we also seem to instinctively look for relief from the thorns of sin that inflict us. In contrast, however, we do not always seek our Master for relief, and many do not yet know who their Master is.

“No one sits alone” also means no one sits alone emotionally or spiritually. I once went with a brokenhearted father to visit his son. Years earlier, the son was excited to become a new deacon. For the occasion, his family bought him his first pair of new shoes.
But at church, the deacons laughed at him and his shoes. His shoes were new, but not fashionable. Embarrassed and hurt, the young deacon said he would never go again to church. My heart is still broken for him and his family. …

Once my sister was going with the Young Women to do temple baptisms. But she lost her temple recommend! She was really disappointed, so we searched all around the house for it. I thought to pray, so I did. When all the Young Women were leaving, we found it! She went to the temple that night. I’m so glad I prayed.
Tucker H., age 10, California, USA

Mara buttoned her skirt and looked in the mirror. It felt funny to wear church clothes on a Saturday, but this was a special Saturday. It was general conference!
“Are you excited for the women’s session?” Mak (Mom) asked. She brushed Mara’s hair with quick, gentle strokes. “I want you to try to listen as much as you can.”
“Yes! I hope they tell pioneer stories!” Mara liked those best.
“Maybe they will,” Mak said. “Did you know your dad is a pioneer?”
Mara was confused. Her dad had never ridden in a covered wagon, like the early pioneers in the Church.
“How is he a pioneer?” she asked.
Mak nodded toward the window, toward the river. “He was fishing there when he met the missionaries. He was the first one in his family to get baptized,” Mak said. “That makes him a pioneer! Now let’s go find your grandmother.”
Yiay (Grandma) was waiting for them in the front room. Mara’s family and her grandparents all lived together. Yiay helped take care of Mara after school while her parents worked. Now Yiay stood by the moped, the big motorized scooter that carried them around the city.
“The Church has only been in Cambodia for 25 years,” Mak told Mara as she opened the door and pushed the moped onto the street. “So we’re all pioneers. Even you!”
How am I a pioneer? Mara wondered as she got on the moped. Mak drove the moped, with Yiay in back and Mara in the middle. Mara held on tight as they zoomed down the crowded street.
As they passed a café, the smell of tea wafted over them. Almost everyone here drank tea. But Mara didn’t. She followed the Word of Wisdom. Mara grinned. That’s one way she was a pioneer!
As the moped turned a corner, Mara saw a wat, a Buddhist temple. The red pointed roof rose above the other buildings. Monks with shaved heads and orange robes sat studying in the courtyard.
Mara knew that most people in Cambodia were Buddhist. They didn’t believe in Jesus Christ. But Mara did. That’s another way I’m a pioneer, thought Mara. And today she would get to listen to the prophet!
As the moped turned into the church parking lot, Mara saw lots of women arriving. Some had walked or ridden mopeds. Others arrived in tuk tuks, small carriages pulled by a motorbike. Many of the women wore dresses or plain skirts, like Mara did. And some wore sampots, beautiful long skirts made of colorful patterned fabrics.
Mara, Mak, and Yiay sat down in the chapel with the other women. Conference had actually happened a whole week ago in Salt Lake City, Utah, USA. Now the people in Cambodia would be able to watch the broadcast in Khmer. Mara spoke both English and Khmer at home, and she also learned French in school. Many Cambodians just spoke Khmer.
The first speaker didn’t tell any stories about pioneers. But then the second speaker told a story about walking up a steep dirt path on her way home from school. It was called the “boys’ trail,” and sometimes she would take off her shoes and walk barefoot. She wanted to do hard things so she could be like a pioneer! Mara smiled as she thought about all the ways she was a pioneer.
The last speaker was the prophet. He stood tall. Mara listened extra closely. “I invite you to read the Book of Mormon between now and the end of the year,” he said. “The heavens will open for you. The Lord will bless you.”
Mara knew it wouldn’t be easy to read the whole Book of Mormon. She looked at the women around her. All of them had chosen to follow Jesus Christ. All of them had come to listen to the prophet. She would follow the prophet, just like they did. She would be a pioneer!

In 1830 Samuel also sold a copy of the Book of Mormon to Brigham Young’s brother: Phinehas (or Phineas) Young, a Methodist preacher. When he first met Samuel, Phinehas was returning home on horseback from his preaching circuit. He had stopped at a farm for dinner. As he and the family were visiting, a young man, dressed in rough clothes, entered the room. Book in hand, the young man said to Phinehas, “There’s a book, sir, I wish you to read.”

“Pray, sir, what book have you?” Phinehas asked.

“The Book of Mormon, or, as it is called by some, the Golden Bible.”

“Ah, so then it purports to be a revelation?” Phinehas asked.

The young man opened the book to the testimonies of the Three and Eight Witnesses and said, “Here is the testimony of the witnesses to the truth of the book.”

Phinehas read their testimonies. When Phinehas looked up from his reading, the young man said, “If you will read this book with a prayerful heart and ask God to give you a witness, you will know the truth of the work.”

Phinehas promised to read the book. Then he asked the young man’s name.

“My name is Samuel H. Smith.”

Phinehas had seen that name! “Then you are one of the witnesses.”

“Yes,” Samuel said. “I know the book is a revelation from God, translated by the power of the Holy Ghost, and that my brother, Joseph Smith, Jr., is a Prophet, Seer, and Revelator.”

After arriving home Phinehas told his wife, “I have got a book here called the Book of Mormon, and it is said to be a revelation, and I wish to read it and make myself acquainted with its errors, so I can expose them to the world.”

True to his promise, he read the Book of Mormon—twice in two weeks. Rather than finding any errors, he became convinced the book was true. On Sunday, when his congregation asked for his opinion of the book, “he defended it for ten minutes, when suddenly the Spirit of God came on him with such force that in a marvelous manner he spoke at great length on the importance of it. … He closed by telling the people that he believed the book.”5

That summer, the Young family, including Brigham, and their friends the Kimballs read the Book of Mormon and believed it.

“Carson is here today,” James’s mom said, pointing to a boy in the hallway by the Primary room.
James groaned. Carson was wearing jeans and an old shirt. James knew his mom and dad would never let him wear anything like that to church, but they would never let him get away with a lot of the other things Carson did either.
Last week at school, Carson had been kicked out of class for talking back to the teacher. He always made fun of the way James dressed and gave him a hard time for being the shortest boy at school.
“What if he yells at Sister Win or starts a fight?” James asked.
“I’m sure everything will be fine,” Mom said. “Carson has never been to church, and he’s probably nervous.”
When class started, Sister Win asked who had brought their scriptures. James raised his hand along with the rest of the class, but Carson shook his head. He looked embarrassed, which surprised James. Carson usually made a joke when he didn’t do his homework. But the more James thought about it, the more he wondered what it would be like to go to a new church for the first time.
Sister Win handed Carson her scriptures to use. When it was Carson’s turn to read a scripture, James began to worry. What if Carson tossed the scriptures on the floor or refused to read?
But Carson didn’t do any of those things. He stared at the words on the page and scowled. After a moment, James realized that Carson couldn’t read very well. James had never noticed this before at school.
What do you think James will do? Will he laugh at Carson? Will he ignore him? What would you do if you were James? Turn the page to find out what happened.
James leaned over to Carson and whispered, “Verily.”
Carson looked surprised, but he said the word and continued reading the verse. When he struggled with a word, James helped him with it. At the end of his turn, Carson looked over at James and gave a small nod.
James wasn’t sure if things were going to be different at school after this. The funny thing was that he didn’t care. He felt good knowing he had helped a boy who always gave him a hard time, and nobody could take that feeling away.

I have found two ways to help. First, I buy fast food certificates with my baby-sitting money and give them to the homeless. I know my donation will be used for food. Second, the Young Women in our ward make small care packages to be distributed.
Celene Williams, 14Orange, California

Steve’s love has grown along with his understanding. He wrote home: “This last week I actually started to enjoy my mission. It happened after I got the tape from home. And I’d been praying quite a bit. I really realized how much my family means to me. I’m just overjoyed to be alive. Our family is so special, and I love you all so much. I realize that the love I feel for you is the thing I need to share with these people.”

I was born on a farm in Iowa, USA. When I was three, my parents traded some old windows and doors for two goats. The goats were so small. A woman brought them to my house in a dog crate. They were beautiful. I named the white, black, and red one Alice. My mom named the tan and black one Tawny.
Mom and Dad helped the woman load the doors and windows into her truck. She was going to turn them into artwork. I watched the goats nervously look around our yard. All of a sudden Alice took a running leap and jumped right over our pasture fence. Tawny looked from us to Alice and decided to leave too. She sprang over the fence like she could fly!
We tried to round them up by bribing them with sweet feed. But the two goats just trotted down the road. They disappeared into a cornfield. We were all scared that they wouldn’t be able to find their way back to their new home. I thought they would be lost in the hundreds of acres of corn that surrounded our house.
I told my mom that we should pray. We had read in the scriptures where Amulek said to “cry over the flocks of your fields” (Alma 34:25). I knew Heavenly Father was watching over our goats.
After I took a nap, I woke up and looked in our yard. Alice and Tawny were there. They had found their way back! I know Heavenly Father hears and answers our prayers. Sometimes it’s even quickly and in the way we hope!

As a missionary for the Church, I tried to help others feel the influence of the Holy Ghost. Some time ago my companion and I had the opportunity to show a young man a videotape of a talk by President Gordon B. Hinckley. The Spirit profoundly touched the young man’s heart.

Addie’s older brother tells her that what she did was brave. The next day, Lane tells Addie that her parents changed their minds. They read the Book of Mormon, and the missionaries stop by their house. They feel the Spirit, and Lane and her family go to church.
William G., age 11, Georgia, USA

I am one who grew up in a single-parent home under very strained economic circumstances. My father died suddenly when I was two years old, leaving my mother with six young children. How she coped with that situation seems a miracle to me now as I watch so many other courageous mothers or fathers struggle with similar challenges. Some have an even more difficult set of circumstances to deal with.

I am a builder and love to build things out of cardboard, so I built my own temple! I live in the Houston Texas Temple district. I hope to be married there one day.
Erick P., age 10, Texas, USA
I am a builder and love to build things out of cardboard, so I built my own temple! I live in the Houston Texas Temple district. I hope to be married there one day.
Erick P., age 10, Texas, USA

Most of the Laie Hawaii Temple was built with concrete made from crushed lava rock. But the builders also needed wood, which was hard to get in Hawaii because of World War I. One day one of the builders prayed and told Heavenly Father that they needed more lumber, or wood, to continue construction. After his prayer, a ship got stuck in a reef on its way to Honolulu. The owner said the local Saints could have his cargo if they would take it off of the ship. Guess what the ship was carrying? Lumber! (From Gerry Avant, “Building a Temple in Laie, Hawaii,” Church News, Nov. 18, 2010.)

Other neighbour and local companies contributed the steel and used their equipment to cut out the soldier’s gun, others donated tenting fabric, and super heavy-duty guy pegs from rebar. A kind and generous benefactor donated £200 for the making of the soldier. A self-employed contractor came to the building on the final day of construction, and when he saw that we were rapidly running out of time, took the afternoon off to help us with some of the wire tethering and knocking in ground spikes.

It’s the same every Mother’s Day. I ask my mom what I can give her, she stops what she’s doing, takes my face in her hands, smiles her what-a-wonderful-boy-you-are-smile, and says, “A poem and a kiss. That’s all I need.”
Well, that always sounds pretty wimpy to me. I mean, a guy in sixth grade just doesn’t go for that mushy stuff. I usually end up giving her one of my drawings. But this particular Mother’s Day had to be different. Mom needed something bigger than a poem, something better than a kiss, and something bolder than a drawing.
Dad lost his job a couple months ago. He’s been looking hard for a new one and doing freelance work whenever he can get it, but Mom always looks worried. She’s been substituting at the elementary school for a teacher who just had a baby. The fifth grade class is noisy and rowdy, and she comes home real tired. Then she has to cook dinner and do laundry and make phone calls for her Church calling. This was no ordinary Mother’s Day. I had to think up an awesome present.
I was watching an old movie on TV, when I got an idea. A great idea! I checked out my wardrobe and decided I had what I needed. I did a little practicing in front of the mirror and figured I could pull it off. I was all set. Not only would my present help Mom out, but it would make her laugh, too.
It was the Saturday morning before Mother’s Day. I had already told my friends that I wouldn’t be joining them for our usual bike ride. I got up pretty early for a change, and instead of putting on a T-shirt and jeans, I put on a white dress shirt, my dark Sunday suit, and my Sunday shoes. I wet my hair and slicked it back. I stood up straight, threw back my shoulders, stuck out my chin, and walked up to Mom, who was putting a load of dirty clothes in the washing machine. I never thought it would be so hard to keep a smile off my face. But I had to.
“Madam,” I said in a formal voice, my eyebrows raised. “I am Andrews, your Butler-for-the-Day.”
Mom looked up from her work with a start. “Andy! You’re all dressed up! Where in the world are you going? Is there a funeral? What was that you said?”
“What I said, Madam,” I replied in my most stately manner, “is that I am your Mother’s Day Butler.” I bowed slightly, just like the guy in the movie. No smiling allowed, I told myself.
Mom was speechless, so I continued, “You may call me Andrews. This entire day I will be at your complete disposal. You have merely to ask, and I will immediately carry out your orders. Your wish is my command.” Now I was sounding more like a movie genie, but Mom didn’t seem to notice. She hadn’t laughed like that in weeks, which made it even harder not to smile.
“Are you serious?” Mom asked when she regained control of herself.
“Sure I am—I mean—most assuredly, Madam. What will you have me do first?”
“This is such a treat!” Mom exclaimed. “How about, … well, … would you mind setting the table for breakfast?”
“Certainly, Madam,” I said. Giving her another bow, I went to work.
“What’s Andy doing, Mom?” I heard my twin sisters ask. They were being total pests, as usual. “Why is he wearing his Sunday clothes?”
“Yeah, what’s up, Andy?” said Dad, coming in from the garage.
“Andrews is my Butler-for-the-Day,” Mom proclaimed like the queen of the world.
My sisters stared holes in me while I poured the orange juice. I guess they weren’t used to seeing me help in the kitchen. My next job was to pull weeds in the front yard. Not a very distinguished, butler-type job, but I did it anyway, even though my Sunday shoes got caked with mud. Mom was really taking this thing seriously!
I had promised myself that no matter what Mom asked me to do, I would do it in true butler style, without a wince. It wasn’t hard, really. She wanted the furniture rearranged and the carpet vacuumed. As long as I had the vacuum out, she said I could clean under the sofa cushions. I crawled on the floor and polished the table and chair legs. I climbed the ladder and dusted the ceiling fan. I hefted overloaded laundry baskets and put clothes away. If the doorbell rang, I hurried to answer it in my formal manner and announced visitors. I picked up the phone before it had a chance to ring twice, and I made some of Mom’s calls for her. Mom smiled and giggled over everything I did. I merely bowed and said, “What further service would Madam wish?” Then she’d smile again.
She kept me busy just about all day. I didn’t slow down until she did, which was after dinner. I put a white dish towel over my arm and served ice water on the porch to her and Dad while they watched the sunset.
“That will be all, Andrews,” said Mom, faking an English accent. Then she laughed and acted like her regular self. “Andy, this was the best Mother’s Day present I’ve ever had. I feel like I’ve had a vacation! I didn’t even have to answer the phone all day!” She let out a big sigh. “I can’t tell you how good it feels to be caught up with my housework—and to have such a willing worker!”
“Very good, Madam,” I said. “Will that be all?” I didn’t want to break character while I was still in costume. Mom chuckled and then regally waved me away. “I sure love you!” she called after me, as I hurried to get my Sunday clothes clean for the next day.
The “real” Mother’s Day, Sunday, was a pretty good one. Mom was relaxed and happy. In sacrament meeting, she kept smiling at me with a double-mushy, wonderful-boy look. At home, every two minutes she raved about her Butler-for-the-Day. She kept saying how she could feel the spirit of the Sabbath day so much better in an orderly house.
The twins, however, stared at me with something less than stars in their eyes. They had gone the poem-and-a-kiss route.
“I wish I’d thought of that butler thing,” one of them said.
“Well, I know what I’m going to do,” the other one said. “I’m going to ask Mom if I can be her lady’s maid all day next Saturday.”
“I have dibs on the next Saturday! Let’s dress up and call her mum, and curtsy!”
They ran up to the attic to look for a costume. Once my sisters get an idea, there’s no stopping them, even if it’s somebody else’s. But if they want to steal my idea and be lady’s maids, that’s fine with me. Being Butler-for-the-Day was pretty strenuous. Once a year is about all Andrews can handle. But I guess Andy could help out a little more regularly. Only I’m not wearing a suit to do it—no way!

W. Craig Zwick
(41) W. Craig Zwick and his wife show love for each other after she jumps with their infant son from the smoke-filled cab of their semitruck.

An adventurous three-year-old, one day I wandered out to visit my father in the fields. We lived on a farm in Kaysville, Utah, and I walked about a quarter mile down the road past our neighbor’s house and then headed out to find Dad.
I didn’t know it, but my dad was already headed home another way. So there I was, out in the middle of the field, surrounded by oats taller than I was. I had no idea how to get home.
I don’t remember being scared. I don’t even remember trying to find my way home. I just played in the fields until I got tired, then lay down and went to sleep. I didn’t know that I was lost at all.
Of course, my parents were not so calm. They began frantically searching for me, and when they couldn’t find me, they called others for help. The whole town of Kaysville spent the entire night looking for me. People drained the ponds and tramped down the crops and waded through the ditches. I had no idea I’d created such a stir!
The next morning, Ben Webster, a friend of my father’s, visited my folks. “I’ll find your boy,” he promised them. Then he headed out into the fields and walked right to where I was! I remember him picking me up and carrying me home to my mother. I learned at that young age that the Savior cares about little children—even when you’re three years old and not sticking very close to home!
The Savior knows each one of you individually. He loves you and watches over you. He knows where you are and what you need. There is no doubt in my mind that He knew where I was in that field. He also knew Ben Webster and how to guide him to where I was.
Children, know that your Heavenly Father loves you. So does Jesus Christ. They are there for you, and They will take care of you. Just as They sent Ben Webster out in the field to find a lost three-year-old, They will send you the help you need!

Recently, during a hospital visit to a dear friend, she asked me to read the scriptures to her. You see, she was full of fear. Well, I planned to spend the evening in final review of materials for a test the next day at school. However, I knew that my friend had not been very close to the Lord lately; so I decided to stay and read to her.
I left the hospital much later than I had planned, and I was worried about my test. Still, I felt I had made the right decision in staying and helping my friend become closer to the Lord by reading the scriptures to her. That night I prayed that the Holy Ghost would bring back into my mind those things which I had previously read in my textbook and studied in class, for now there was no time for further study. A warm and comforting spirit came over me. I had no fear during the examination the next day, and I was blessed with the ability to remember information that otherwise might not have come back into my mind. I believe that if we truly seek God and try to live worthily, we will be blessed with the ability to accomplish all our goals and we will have the power to be what we should.

Curiosity and a desire for knowledge have been Steve’s hallmarks ever since he was a child. Although he may not be quite the organized goal setter that Scott is (their mom calls Steve the “other half of the ‘Odd Couple’”), he is just as interested in succeeding. And it is curiosity that drives Steve, instead of the lists that motivate his brother Scott. That curiosity is one of the things that make him special; it is his personal harmony that can reinforce the melody yet still sound intriguing on its own.

Steve’s father remembers a time when an older sister was taking care of young Steve. “She said, ‘Dad, Dad, come here quick! Listen to him: all he says is Why!’ He’s been like that ever since. He loves an explanation of what and why things are,” says Brother Shreeve.