Gospel Story Finder

Fourth, we began attending the Church at the missionaries’ invitation—and what a friendly reception! We soon learned what true sociality is, and sincere brotherhood and sisterhood which bind together people of all nations and tongues. “Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the household of God” (Eph. 2:19). What a wonderful feeling of belonging, of being needed and appreciated, beyond anything we had previously experienced.
Soon we were singing in choirs; visiting other Church members in their homes, just as they visited us; and giving service to others in some of the many service projects the Church provides. We were able to choose from a wide range of activities—drama, dancing, sport—to supplement the spiritual progress that came rapidly by worshiping and learning with other Latter-day Saints. Everyone needs to experience the warmth of friendship and happy social activity on a continuing basis.

The example of a faithful pioneer sister illustrates this truth. Mary Lois Walker was married at age 17 to John T. Morris in St. Louis, Missouri. They crossed the plains with the Saints in 1853, entering the Salt Lake Valley shortly after their first anniversary. On their journey they had suffered the privations typical of other Saints. But their sufferings and adversity did not end when they reached the Salt Lake Valley. The following year Mary, then 19, wrote: “A son was born to us. … One evening when he was two or three months old … something whispered to me, ‘You will lose that little one.’”
During the winter the baby’s health declined. “We did all we could, … but the baby grew steadily worse. … On the second of February he passed away … and so I drank the bitter cup of parting from my own flesh and blood.” But her trials were still not over. Mary’s husband was also stricken, and three weeks after losing her baby, he died.
Mary wrote: “So was I, while yet in my teens, bereft in the short period of 20 days, of my husband and my only child, in a strange land hundreds of miles from my blood kin and with a mountain of difficulty before me … and I wished that I too, might die and join my loved one[s].”
Mary continues: “One Sunday evening I was taking a walk with my friend. … I was reminded of [my husband’s] absence and my intense loneliness, and as I wept bitterly I could see, as it were in mental vision, the steep hill of life I should have to climb and felt the reality of it with great force. A deep depression settled upon me, for the enemy knows when to attack us, but our [Savior, Jesus Christ,] is mighty to save. Through … the help given of the Father, I was able to battle with all the force which seemed to be arrayed against me at this time.”
Mary learned at the tender age of 19 that the Atonement gives us the assurance that all things that are unfair in this life can and will be made right—even the deepest sorrows.

A few weeks later, Mom sent me a newspaper clipping about Todd. “Local Man Saves Child on Woolly Caterpillar Fun Ride” was the headline. Now what had he done?

According to the article, a child had fallen from the last seat of the ride and gotten his hand stuck in the rail. Todd heard him screaming and ran to the ride. He stopped it and stood under the dangling boy, hoisting him up. He held him until the paramedics could free the boy’s injured hand. Todd had stood with his head poking through the rails, a dangerous spot if the ride should somehow start again. There was a picture of the boy’s mother kissing Todd’s cheek and a smiling Todd with his hands on the shoulders of a beaming boy who held up a bandaged hand. The article said the mayor had plans to honor Todd as “The Hardworking Hero of Fun King.” Hardworking hero? This certainly wasn’t the Todd I knew.

When I was a deacon, I passed the sacrament and collected fast offerings. And I set up chairs for meetings and took them down again. These duties seemed small to me. As I look back now, I can see that they were the start of my service in the Church. These small things prepared me for the day when the Lord would call me to do more.

Mark and his mom tromped through the snow to the car. Dad had scraped the frost from the windows and warmed up the car, but he wasn’t coming to church. He was reading on the sofa instead.
“I hate going without Dad,” Mark grumbled as he settled into the front seat beside Mom.
“I’m sad that Dad’s not going with us too,” Mom said as she backed out of the driveway. “But I still love going to church.”
“Well, I do too,” Mark said. “But you know what I mean, right? I wish our family could be more like Doug’s family.”
Doug was Mark’s best friend at church. Doug’s dad went to church every Sunday. He always had a smile and a high-five for Mark.
Mom rounded the corner onto the main road. “I do know what you mean,” she said. “Doug has a wonderful family. And I always thought our family would be more like that. It’s hard that it isn’t. I hope Dad can work out his questions and problems and start coming to church with us again. But that’s for him to figure out. You and I can’t do it for him, and worrying won’t help.”
“What will help?”
Mom paused for a minute before she answered. “Keep loving him. Pray for him. Work on our own testimonies. Try to be happy. Remember what a good dad he is, even if he’s not the same as other people’s dads.”
Mark thought how good it felt to get into their nice, warm car with the windows cleared. “I think I understand,” he said.
Mark thought about Mom’s words all week long.
He thought about them on Tuesday night when Dad sat down to help him with homework.
“You’re working really hard,” Dad said. “You know what? I think you’re going to be really successful all through school. I hope you always remember how important it is to get a good education.”
He thought about her words on Wednesday afternoon when Dad surprised him by picking him up at school. They ate lunch together and watched ice skaters in the park.
“I don’t have to teach a class until later today, and I just wanted to hang out with you,” Dad said.
Mark thought about Mom’s words on Thursday evening when he came home from Webelos and found Dad listening to music while grading papers.
“Isn’t this song amazing?” Dad asked. “It was written by one of my favorite composers.” Mark had to agree that the music was beautiful.
And Mark thought about her words on Saturday morning when Dad took him snowshoeing. They saw intricate ice crystals clinging to tree branches, a rabbit whose fur had turned white for snow camouflage, and crows feasting on winter berries.
“Remember how blessed we are to live in this world, Mark,” Dad whispered as they watched wispy clouds drift overhead.
On Sunday, when it was time for church, Mark saw Dad lying on the couch. He had been praying that Dad would come to church this week, but he stopped and gave Dad a hug before he went out to the car. “I love you, Dad,” he said. “You teach me so many good things. I’m glad you’re my dad.”

Many of the LDS kids in Alice attend St. Philip’s, a private school run by another church. St. Philip’s has a strict dress code. There are even rules about jewelry—only one pair of earrings, no bracelets, no rings.
That was a problem for the Mormon kids—no rings. Like many Latter-day Saints worldwide, they like to wear CTR rings. But they were told to remove them, even though exceptions had been made before for jewelry with “religious significance.”
“I had explained why it was important to me,” says Lavinia Archibald, 16. “But one of my teachers kept saying to take the ring off or she’d confiscate it.”
The LDS students and their parents talked to the principal, who knew the LDS youth were some of his best students. He talked to the faculty, explained that CTR stands for “choose the right,” and gave his approval for Latter-day Saints to wear the rings.

This new tractor was large and sturdy
but most of all it was red.
Things moved quicker painted red,
like fire engines, and there had been
two red candles on that cake
that had disappeared so fast.
Red. Big people spoke to him
but the tractor spoke louder,
of cold tile floors in need of plowing.
The wheels turned smoothly as the blades
dug up acres under the kitchen table
so he ignored the ache in his knees.
He wiped his forehead.
It would be a fine harvest!
He kept his eyes on the end of the row
while the wheels turned smoothly,
the engine hummed softly
and said red, red.

I brought my scriptures with me to Scout camp. But in the excitement of earning merit badges the first few days, I forgot one of the most important things: scripture study. Then on the third night, the wind started to blow hard, the rain began to pour down, and lightning and thunder began to boom and crackle. The lightning was so bright it looked like day. My friend and I were scared out of our socks.
I had an impression that we should study the scriptures together. My friend and I went into the tent, and I pulled my scriptures from my pack. My friend prayed, and I felt the Spirit so strong. We flipped to 2 Nephi 25 and read about the importance of scripture study. I felt like we were led to that chapter to tell us that we need to read our scriptures. As we continued reading, the wind began to calm down, the rain lightened up, and the thunder stopped. As we left the tent I could feel the Spirit so strong, and all I could do was give God thanks.

Heather and Christopher take their cue from their father, Tom Drummond, who, when he got custody of his two children over 12 years ago, decided he would be the best parent he could be, with or without the support of a wife. And later, when he was introduced to the Church, he decided to take on the challenges and blessings of membership and hopefully share them with his children.

Members of the Church around the world met in meetinghouses and homes by satellite, television, radio, or Internet to sustain in solemn assembly the new President and First Presidency of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on April 5, 2008.
President Thomas S. Monson and his counselors in the First Presidency, President Henry B. Eyring and President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, were announced on February 4, 2008, following the passing of President Gordon B. Hinckley on January 27. However, the 178th Annual General Conference of the Church held on April 5 and 6, 2008, was the first opportunity that members of the Church as a whole had to sustain their new leaders.

Sandy was a Primary child who showed that she could be a missionary too. When she was five years old, she invited her best friend, Craig, to go to church with her on Sunday. Craig wanted to go with Sandy and was excited to ask his mother. But Craig’s mother had other plans, and she said no. When Craig asked his mother the next week if he could go to church, she said no again. Because Sandy was a good missionary, she asked Craig a third time to go to church with her family. Craig got up early on Sunday morning and put on his best clothes. Then he woke up his mother and asked if he could go to church with Sandy. When she said no for the third time, Craig started to cry. Craig’s mother decided that if he wanted to go so badly, maybe she should go too. Craig and his mother went to church that day with Sandy and her family. That evening they began learning about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from the full-time missionaries, and soon they were baptized.
More than 20 years later, when Craig tells this story, he likes to count all the people who are members of the Church because of five-year-old Sandy, who invited a friend to church. He can count more than 100 people. Craig says, “I don’t know how many others Sandy invited to church. … I do know that I owe her more than I can say” (Friend, Oct. 1998, 36–37).

Fleur remembers the first time she played the organ in sacrament meeting. She had played the piano in Primary, but when the ward organist was called to be the bishop, he encouraged her to play the organ. He asked her to play the closing hymn one sacrament meeting. Fleur was nervous.

When it was time for the hymn, she went to the organ, and the bishop sat beside her to work the pedals for her. From that day on, Fleur served as the ward organist, from age 10 to 14.

She says, “It was scary sitting up on the stand with people staring at me.” Her willingness to serve, however, brought a blessing: “After a while I got better at sight-reading the hymns. I could just go in and play them.”

A balloon filled with air at the surface of the ocean and then taken 132 feet below would be one-tenth the size it was on top. The ocean pushes in on the balloon and squeezes the air together so it becomes smaller. If the balloon were taken down to a depth of 132 feet and then blown up to its original size, the ocean would push on it less and less as it came up toward the surface of the water. When it reached the top, it would be so big it would pop! Such a balloon would be full of pushed-in or compressed air at 132 feet that would expand against the sides of the balloon until the rubber could no longer hold it.

Emma Ray wasn’t sure when David would return. She and her cousin Belle were at a family reunion on an island in the Great Salt Lake.
Belle: Emma Ray, have you heard? David McKay arrives home tonight.
Emma Ray: I should meet him at the train station!
Belle: The boat won’t come back for us in time.
Emma Ray and her cousin Belle rigged a sail on an old rowboat and took turns rowing.
When David stepped off the train, Emma Ray was there.
Emma Ray: Welcome home, Elder McKay.
David: It’s so good to see you!

Come child, I want to show you
The moon shining through a thin veil of clouds,
The stars that seem just out of reach
Reflected in a silver lake.
Now close your eyes—be still a moment.
Feel the warm breeze touch your skin and hair.
Listen as it rustles the leaves of aspen trees.
Breathe in the perfume of dying lilacs.
Walk with me in the twilight tonight
And I will fill your soul with light.

I often give subscriptions to the Liahona to my friends and employees for Christmas gifts as a way of teaching the gospel to them. Those at work often come to me and comment on the articles they read. They use the Liahona as a counselor, and they say that when they have problems in their families they read the Liahona together. I also place a copy of the magazine in the waiting room of our office. It is a wonderful missionary instrument.
Prycila Villar, Brazil

I had always enjoyed the warmth and green of Southern California winters, but Christmas in Helsinki, Finland, was something out of a storybook. There was snow on the ground, pine trees in the park, and stars so brilliant that heaven seemed only a hand’s reach away. I could almost hear the angels singing, “Peace on earth, good will to men!”
My heart was filled with that peace as my missionary companion, Sister Pels, and I settled into our chairs at a fast-food restaurant. Our meeting had concluded at about 7:00 P.M.,and we were eager to relax for a moment over a meal before our bus arrived.
Suddenly the doors flew open and in swept about 20 people wearing costumes. One was dressed like Joseph, another like Mary, and still others like shepherds, the Wise Men, and angels with wings. They had obviously just come from a local Nativity play. Joking and laughing, they purchased their food and sat down to eat.
A few moments later another man walked into the restaurant. He was obviously not part of the first group. His hair was tousled, and he was wearing old, torn clothes. When he collected his meal, he wandered around looking for a seat. Finding one among the Nativity performers, he started to squeeze in between two of the Wise Men. As he did, he accidentally tipped his tray too far, and his soda pop fell onto the floor.
There were chuckles from the group as he backed away and found a table next to ours. He eased into the seat and just sat there, head hung, not looking at his food, not looking at much of anything but the floor. It occurred to me that this meal must have been something special for him, a rarity he could barely afford. The loss of his drink must have broken his heart. It broke my heart to look at him.
“We have to do something,” I said to Sister Pels.
“Well, they do offer free refills for spilled drinks,” Sister Pels remarked. She immediately stood up and walked over to the food counter. As she did, all Bethlehem noticed her missionary name tag. Some of the group rolled their eyes.
A few minutes later, Sister Pels handed the man a new drink as an attendant cleaned up the spill. The man stared at the drink, then turned to stare at Sister Pels and me. His eyes filled with tears. “Thank you,” he said through a throat tight with emotion. “Life’s really hard right now.”
He told us he was 54 years old and had once been a sailor. He was alone now. His father had just died, and the rest of his family was gone. “Who are you?” he asked.
“We’re missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,” I replied. “We’re in Finland sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ and another testament of him called the Book of Mormon. Would you like a copy?”
He shook his head. “Thanks anyway.”
The conversation ended quickly when Sister Pels noticed that our bus was due to arrive. We would have to hurry to catch it. As we were leaving, we passed by the Nativity group. One of the angels glowered at us and said through clenched teeth, “The Bible is the book.” Momentarily startled, Sister Pels and I edged out the door. Behind us came the tattered and lonely stranger.
“Where are the angels going?” he asked. Puzzled, we looked back into the restaurant at the performers. But then we noticed he was looking at us. “Where are the angels going?” he asked again.
We smiled and wished him a merry Christmas, then boarded the bus. As it pulled away from the restaurant, I gazed at the stars. Heaven did indeed seem especially close.

William Prabhudas of the Bangalore Second Branch works in a courthouse. He knows how heart wrenching it can be to see marriages torn apart. That’s one of the reasons he and his wife were so eager to find strength in the temple.
“Like most couples, sometimes we have small issues to work out,” he says. “But working them out is so much easier when we both have an eternal perspective.”
His wife, Sheela, says that going to the temple has helped not only her and her husband, but it has also helped their children: Celesta, age 13, and Doris, 7. “We were sealed as a family,” Sheela says. “It was a good feeling. We forgot the outside world, and it was like heaven for us. We talk about it all the time.”
“What a blessing to be sealed to my wife,” Brother Prabhudas says. “And then they brought our daughters in, dressed in white, to join us. It reminded me of cleanliness—cleanliness in our lives and in our homes. Cleanliness and the temple go hand in hand. When we are clean, the Lord promises—in His house of promises—to bless us.”
Celesta recalls that her family worked, planned, and saved for two years to be able to travel to the temple. But most of all, she remembers being in the temple with her parents and that her aunt and uncle and cousins were also there to see her family sealed. “Afterward, we all held hands together. We looked in the mirrors and thought about eternity,” she recalls. “It was beautiful. I knew I wanted to belong to my family forever.”

For a parent-child service project (see guidebook, p. 9), Michael’s family decided to make apple pies that each family member could take to someone. Michael asked if he could take his pie to a family who had been unfriendly. Although his mother was concerned, Michael persisted. Michael’s family delivered the pie. They discovered that the family was having hard times and that the unfriendliness was not directed at them. The two families became great friends because Michael wanted to live the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Angela Walker isn’t letting any grass grow under her feet. She is striding out in the lead in several long-distance races.
Angela won first place in her age group in the Brigham Young University Homecoming race. Three days later, she won the 7–8 grade division in the Pocatello City Cross-Country championship. She remained undefeated throughout the year.
In school, Angela is in the Honor Society and plays the flute. She is active in the stake athletic programs and attends the Pocatello 50th Ward, Pocatello Idaho Chubbuck Stake.