Gospel Story Finder

Coleman enjoys going to Primary. Because he loves the music so much, he has started to learn the words to Primary songs. Even though he used to not sing in Primary, singing is now his favorite thing to do at church. He especially likes to sing “Do As I’m Doing” (Children’s Songbook, 276).

Enter Pacific Assist Foundation. As detailed last September, Pacific Assist Director Callum Blair was able to obtain some stored equipment from Torbay School in Auckland.
After a few months tying down some loose ends, it was shipped to Nuhaka and installed, along with some overhead shade provided by the Church, with the assistance of local missionaries in February.
Elder Nathan Woods, of Garden City, Utah, USA, and Elder Jacob Hughes of Branson, Missouri, USA assisted in the installation of the playground, along with Blair and other members of his Pacific Assist Team. Elder Woods said he and Elder Hughes were delighted to be of assistance.
“As missionaries, we cherish opportunities to serve others,” Woods said. “When you help others, it helps you remember the times that people have helped you, and you remember how it feels and how much those people mean to you.”
Elder Hughes agreed, noting that the opportunity to serve is an opportunity to grow as a person and to appreciate others even more. “It’s amazing to know that when we serve those around us, God remembers that effort.”
He continued, “I think when I get to help someone in a way that brings them joy, it gives me a glimpse of the love He has for them. It was an awesome experience to see how excited everyone was who helped with this.
“They just knew how much joy it would bring to these children who had gone through so much.”
And the kids really appreciated the effort expended to make it possible for them. “They were so excited when it was finally ready for them,” McFarlane said. “We couldn’t keep them focused on their work, so we finally just told them to go try it out!”

You’re in a Sunday School class talking with your friends about the weekend when your teacher comes in ready to start the lesson. What do you do?
Just keep talking until the teacher finally asks you to stop.
Scoot closer together and whisper.
Stop talking and give your full attention to the teacher so you and your friends can listen. You also offer to give the opening prayer.

Later on in my life, many of my prayers were answered with a yes. One such time was when I received a pocketknife for my Christmas gift. This was a rare and a fine gift for someone in my humble circumstances, and I cherished it with all my heart and took very good care of it. However, in the springtime, a terrible thing happened—I lost my pocketknife! I searched everyplace I could think of but could not find it. The days went by, and each day I continued to search and pray. Some weeks later as I was returning home from school, my brother came running as fast as he could, shouting that he had found my pocketknife. I was overjoyed and so thankful that Heavenly Father had finally answered my prayers.
In this case, my prayers were answered with a yes. Heavenly Father knew that this answer would strengthen my faith. Since that time, I have had many, many prayers answered, but not all have been answered with a yes.

“I want a Saturday chore,” Johnny said to his mother. “You and Daddy have chores, and Sarah and Joe have chores. I want one too.”
Mother smiled. “Why don’t you watch what everybody does this Saturday. Maybe that will help you think of something that you can do.”
On Saturday morning Johnny watched Joe carry large piles of dirty clothes to the washing machine. Joe left a trial of socks and shirts behind him and had to go back and pick them up.
Then Johnny went outside, where Daddy was mowing the grass. Every once in a while Daddy stopped to carry the grass clippings to the vegetable garden.
Next Johnny went to the garden. Sarah was pulling out the weeds. She walked back and forth, carrying the weeds to the compost heap.
When Mother returned from the grocery store, Johnny watched her carry grocery bags from the car into the house.
At lunchtime Mother asked Johnny, “Did you think of a Saturday chore?”
“You’ll see next Saturday,” Johnny told her with a happy smile.
The next week Johnny got his red wagon and pulled it behind Joe, picking up the socks and shirts that were dropped.
“Thanks, Johnny,” said Joe.
Johnny took his wagon outside. When Daddy’s lawn mower bag was full, Johnny piled the sweet-smelling clippings into his wagon and pulled them to the garden.
“Thanks, Johnny,” said Daddy.
Then Johnny’s wagon rattled back and forth, carrying Sarah’s wilting weeds to the compost heap.
“Thanks, Johnny,” said Sarah.
When Mother came home, Johnny used his wagon to carry the bags of groceries to the house.
“Thanks, Johnny,” said Mother.
Johnny and his wagon were busy hauling things all morning. At lunchtime, Mother smiled at Johnny and said, “You found a good Saturday chore.”
“Yes,” he said proudly, “Johnny’s Delivery Service. It’s a ‘Saturday Special’!”

What a sacrifice these good sisters made! Some mothers lost their own lives in childbirth. Many babies did not survive. My wife’s grandmother, Elizabeth Riter, was born at Winter Quarters in the back of a covered wagon during a rainstorm. Fortunately, both the mother and the newborn infant survived. With great love for the woman who gave life to her, Elizabeth often lovingly recounted how an umbrella was held over her mother throughout the ordeal to shield her from the water leaking through the wagon’s cover.

Bishop Vaughn J. Featherstone
“I have a sweet Aunt Beryl Hollindrake. She told me that when she was just three or four years old that my great-grandmother, her Grandmother Featherstone, would hold her on her lap and tell her about the Savior, all the beautiful stories. Then she would recall how my great-grandmother would tell her about the Savior’s trial and how they beat him and cursed him and spit upon him—how they dragged him and forced him against the cross and drove huge spikes into his hands cruelly. She said, ‘As my grandmother would tell me these stories, tears would stream down her cheeks.’ And she said, ‘It was on the lap of my grandmother that I learned to love the Savior with all of my heart and soul.’”

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

The missionary bearing his testimony was on crutches; he had injured his knee in a bicycle accident. He wanted to tell the other missionaries how much he loved his companion, to tell them how he had learned of a new dimension in love from this companion. Two or three weeks earlier he had been in an accident. The doctor had said he couldn’t ride his bicycle anymore and must stay off his leg. The mission president had decided to transfer him so his companion could keep on working. What good could he do when he couldn’t even ride a bicycle? His companion pleaded with the mission president not to transfer him yet. They were having success. He loved his incapacitated companion. They would find a way. “Please let us try!” he said. The mission president agreed to let them try.
Then the elder on crutches told us how they had solved their problem. He said his companion had connected their two bikes with a rope, and had pulled him all over the city for two weeks as they did their work. He said he had really learned what it was like for one man to love another.

“My dad loved to play baseball, and I loved baseball too. I was sure I was going to pitch for the St. Louis Cardinals, and I might have done it, too, if the war hadn’t come along. As a result, I went into the service. Although I hate war, the Fourth of July and what it stands for always gives me a thrill. I have the strongest feeling for my country’s flag. I can’t see it pass by without getting a lump in my throat. I considered it a tremendous privilege to serve my country in the military.”

The paths of Palestine quickly tell visitors that Jesus did not come to a gentle environment. With the same arid climate as Utah, Israel is generally fractured by hills and jutting layers of rock. Sentimental illustrators drew the Savior on grassy slopes with brooks and shade. Irrigation or spring rains may change the land, but its reality is otherwise. Eliza R. Snow rode horseback into Jerusalem in 1873 and wrote of the “uneven” country;3 in the same group, George A. Smith mentioned leaving Jerusalem for Galilee in the midst of “a rocky, barren and almost desolate country.”4

I truly believe that those who have the ability to reach out and to lift up have found the formula descriptive of Brother Walter Stover—a man who spent his entire life in service to others. At Brother Stover’s funeral, his son-in-law paid tribute to him in these words: “Walter Stover had the ability to see Christ in every face he encountered, and he treated each person accordingly.” Legendary are his acts of compassionate help and his talent to lift heavenward every person whom he met. His guiding light was the Master’s voice speaking, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these … , ye have done it unto me.”

Early in my assignment as a bishop I was approached by a ward member who came to make a suggestion. “The ward is too mechanical,” he said. “You have done much to organize and staff the auxiliaries, but you seem to be too busy to care about individuals.” I was shocked. It had never occurred to me that, in our anxiety to staff the ward auxiliaries, the bishopric was conveying the message that we were too busy to be helpful to our members. The kindly given information was discussed at length during the bishopric meetings that followed, and it proved most useful.

Alasdair sat up straighter in his red velvet chair as the lights began to dim. The people in the theater stopped chatting and looked up at the stage. Alasdair’s sister, Sutton, folded her program. Then she caught his eye and smiled. “Ready, Al?” she asked.
Tonight was Alasdair’s first time at the theater. His parents loved to watch plays, and when Sutton turned 10, they started taking her with them. Now Alasdair was finally old enough to go too!
The orchestra began the overture. Then the actors walked out on stage and the show began.
Alasdair loved the play. It had adventure, mystery—and even some great jokes! When the show ended, all the actors came out for their curtain call. As Alasdair joined the applause, he had a good feeling, like he sometimes got in Primary. Was he feeling the Holy Ghost? It can’t be. I’m not at church! Alasdair thought.
Overture—music at the beginning of the play
Curtain call—when the actors take their bow at the end of a play
On the way home, Alasdair sat by Sutton on the subway. “Did you like the play?” she asked as the train rattled through the dark tunnels.
Alasdair nodded. “I loved it!”
“Me too,” Sutton said.
Alasdair thought about how good he had felt during the play. “Sutton,” he said, “when we were watching the play, I felt happy, sort of like I do at church. But the play wasn’t about the gospel!”
“That was the Holy Ghost,” Sutton said as the train stopped and they followed their parents onto the platform. “He can tell us what’s good for us to be around and what isn’t. Did you think the play had a good message?”
“Yes,” Alasdair said. “It was about being kind to other people.”
“Right!” Sutton said as they climbed up the escalator behind their parents. “The Holy Ghost is always there to tell us when things are good for us to be around—not just when we’re at church. We just have to listen.”

I have heard of truly great experiences of couples in the mission field.
Brother and Sister Ralph Lambert served their eighteen months’ mission in the Oklahoma Tulsa Mission. While serving in a small branch they had a sister and her teenage son coming to church every Sunday. Although the father in this family was a member of record, he never came along.
Before his retirement in Oklahoma, he had lived in Utah, and as a young deacon he was so shy that he did not attend church because he was afraid to be asked to pray or to carry out some other assignment.
From time to time he met young missionaries who talked to him about the Church, but they were never able to bring him back into activity. However, Brother and Sister Lambert, being of the same age and having great maturity, were able to develop a warm relationship with him.
He started coming to church with his wife and son, and he was never pressured to do anything he did not feel like doing. After a while, he started to ask how much money was expected as a contribution to the branch budget. When this was explained to him in a loving way, he made his first contribution.
About a month later, when fast Sunday was approaching, he asked what the present procedure was for paying tithing. It was explained to him that it hadn’t changed in the fifty years since he had lived in Utah! He then started paying this voluntary contribution to the kingdom.
Shortly thereafter, he said that he would accept any call that would be extended to him in that small branch. He was ordained a priest, and this enabled him to ordain his youngest son a priest in the Aaronic Priesthood.
He later became a counselor in the branch presidency, and last year he was ordained an elder and his whole family was sealed together in the Salt Lake Temple.

John also reports an incident which took place in June 1844, shortly before the martyrdom. Now 16, he had been marching with 75 legion troopers summoned to Nauvoo by the Prophet. It was raining; roads were bad. Most of the men were on foot, wading in places through waist-deep water.
We reached Nauvoo about daylight and encamped near the temple. While I was guarding the baggage, Joseph the Prophet rode up. He asked about my parents. As we were talking, he took my hand and pulled me forward until I was obliged to step up on a log. Then turning his horse sideways he drew me step by step to near the end of the log, when, seeing that each foot left marks of blood upon the bark, he asked me what was the matter with my feet.
I replied that the prairie grass had cut my shoes to pieces and wounded my feet, but they would soon be all right. I noticed the hand he raised to his face was wet and looking up I saw his cheeks covered with tears. He placed his hand on my head and said, “God bless you, my dear boy,” and asked if others of the company were in the same plight. I replied that a number of them were.
Turning his face toward Mr. Lathrup as the latter came to the door of his store, the Prophet said: “Let these men have some shoes.” Lathrup said: “I have no shoes.” Joseph’s quick reply was, “Let them have boots, then.”
Joseph then turned to me and said, “Johnnie, the troops will be disbanded and return home. I shall go to Carthage for trial. …” Then leaning toward me, with one hand on my head, he said: “Have no fear, for you shall yet see Israel triumph in peace.” (Adapted from Carl Arrington, “Brother Joseph,” New Era, Dec. 1973, pp. 16–19.)

My newfound computing skills proved critical for the next leg of my career. In the early 1990s, I set up another first computer lab, this time at Aorere College in Papatoetoe, Auckland, New Zealand. My husband and I then spent our final working years running a small, Samoan-language newspaper in Auckland, where my job was to type up and lay out our publication for printing. Everything I did was on the computer, and every task relied on my ability to type.

It then became my responsibility to discern whom the Lord had prepared to be my counselors. How could I choose only two of the twelve other Apostles, each of whom I love so dearly? I’m deeply grateful to the Lord for answering my fervent prayers. I am very thankful that President Dallin Harris Oaks and President Henry Bennion Eyring are willing to serve with me as First and Second Counselors, respectively. President Dieter F. Uchtdorf has resumed his place in the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. He has already received major assignments for which he is uniquely qualified.
I pay tribute to him and to President Eyring for their magnificent service as counselors to President Monson. They’ve been totally capable, devoted, and inspired. We are very grateful for them. Each is willing to serve now where he is needed most.

I’d like to thank you for publishing the Mormonads every month. My nonmember friend saw them on my wall and now she wants to come to church with me. She really liked them and their meanings.

In speaking of heroes, I have been greatly blessed in my lifetime to be in church services where each of the prophets since Heber J. Grant spoke. I grew up in Salt Lake City, and President Grant spoke in our ward. I remember him talking about his desires to play baseball better, write better, and sing better. He talked about how hard those three things were for him and how he practiced to become better at them.
I was about eight years old at the time, and I wasn’t a very good baseball player. I didn’t write very well, either. And although I loved to sing, especially the Primary songs, I didn’t sing very well. So I related to President Grant, and his story gave me hope that I could do better.