Gospel Story Finder

Ellie trudged along after her younger sister, her skirts bouncing against her ankles, baby John in her arms. He felt as heavy as a full water bucket, and Ellie was hot. She pushed her bonnet off her head and watched enviously as her sister played with the Petersen girls. Mary was five and too small to carry a baby.
She turned to look at Mama. Something was wrong! Mama sat hunched over on the wagon seat, her hands clenching the reins.
“Mama?” Ellie called, holding the baby close as she ran back. “Mama, are you all right?”
Mama straightened slowly. Her face was pale, and her eyes looked wide. “I’m fine, Ellie. Are you looking after your sister?”
“I am, Mama. She’s right up ahead.” Ellie reached up and touched her mother’s clammy hand. “You’re ill, Mama. Let me drive the wagon.”
“You’re too young. Tending Mary and John is plenty for you. I’ll be fine.” Mama flicked the reins to keep the oxen moving, and Ellie backed away.
Mama won’t let me do anything but tend children, Ellie thought. I’m old enough. Well, … maybe not. The oxen take a strong arm. But Mama isn’t strong right now, either. Ellie hurried back to where her brother and the other boys were herding the extra oxen. “Harry, Mama’s sick. Can you drive the wagon?”
Harry gave his stick to another boy and ran ahead. Ellie ran after him and settled the baby in a corner of the wagon, then made a bed for Mama. “You rest now, Mama. Evening stop will be soon.”
Mama smiled. “I think I will sleep a little, Ellie, but you wake me when we stop. I’ll need to fix supper.”
Ellie kissed her mother’s cheek. It was hot and dry. She worried as she climbed down with the baby. Mama needed rest—lots of it. Ellie would handle the evening chores on her own.
Mary and the Petersen girls skipped alongside the wagon, laughing and chattering. Mama needed quiet, so Ellie sent them to gather buffalo chips for the fire. There was still a basketful in the wagon, but she didn’t want to be caught short.
“Don’t go too far, now—only up to that rise.” Ellie pointed, and the girls scampered off. Baby John had fallen asleep in her arms, so Ellie laid him next to Mama and carefully poured a cup of water.
Her mind worked as she gently sponged Mama’s face. Papa had gone ahead with some other men to hunt and wouldn’t be back for a day or two. Brother Cooper, the company captain, had said that they might reach another creek tonight. If they did, would he call a wash day? Mama needed to rest in one spot. If they stopped for a wash day, maybe it would be enough time for Mama to get well.
Shouts interrupted Ellie’s thoughts. Harry stopped the wagon, then started, then stopped again. Ellie peered ahead—trees! They really had reached a creek! “Time for evening camp,” she said to Mama, but Mama and John slept on.
Ellie waved to the girls. They returned, laden with wide, flat buffalo chips, and dumped them where Ellie pointed.
Ellie lifted the heavy oaken bucket and followed Harry and the oxen down to the creek. Her arms ached by the time she got the water back to the wagon, but Ellie was too busy to think about it. She started the fire, then mixed the biscuits. After giving her mother a few sips of water and sponging her face again, she put a pot of beans on the fire. Then Ellie cut up a piece of dried meat and put it into a kettle with some wild onions and water. The broth would strengthen her mother, and she’d thicken the rest for stew tomorrow.
When the fire had died down and was glowing bright with hot coals, Ellie put the biscuits on to bake. She stirred the beans again as she glanced around at the camp. What else? What else would Mama be doing? She couldn’t sweep out the wagon without disturbing Mama, but she got the bedrolls down and laid them out beside the wagon. Then she went to look for the Petersens.
“Sister Petersen,” Ellie asked politely, “have you heard if we’re going to have a washing day tomorrow? Or should I try to do some tonight?”
Sister Petersen smiled. “Helping out, are we? Well, Brother Cooper says that we’ll stay here the day, so tell your mama not to worry about any washing tonight.”
“Thank you, Sister Petersen. But Mama has a fever, so I’m doing it.”
“A fever? I’ll come over.” Sister Petersen bustled back with Ellie to check on Mama. On the way, she offered, “Do you need any help, girl? I’ll fix—”
“No, thank you, Sister Petersen. Dinner’s fixed and the beds are ready. Harry took care of the oxen, and I’m going to do some mending tonight. We’re doing fine.”
Sister Petersen looked Ellie up and down intently. Then she nodded and climbed up to Mama.
Ellie listened to their murmuring voices as she dished up beans and biscuits for Harry and Mary. Then she ladled some broth into a cup and headed for the wagon, just as Sister Petersen climbed down. She nodded again at Ellie as she left.
Ellie took the broth and a spoon up for Mama. Her skin was still hot, but her eyes weren’t so blank. “Here, Mama.” Ellie spooned the warm liquid into Mama’s mouth. “This will help.”
Mama took a few sips, then smiled wanly. “I’m sorry, Ellie, that I can’t do much.”
“That’s all right, Mama. Everything’s set for tonight.”
Mama nodded. “Sister Petersen told me. You’re a good girl. But tomorrow, I—”
“No, Mama,” Ellie said firmly. “I can take care of things tomorrow. You need to rest while we’re stopped.”
“But that’s so much for you, Ellie,” Mama protested.
Ellie was silent as she fed Mama the rest of the broth. Then she wiped her mother’s face gently and said, “You taught me well, Mama. I can do it, even the washing. I’m old enough.”
Mama closed her eyes and smiled. “You’re a good girl.”
Ellie quietly climbed down from the wagon and looked at the children eating and at the bedrolls. “I’m old enough,” she repeated, then got herself some supper and went to join the others.

At a recent conference in Salt Lake City of the U.S. National Society of Children and Adults with Autism, Elder Rex D. Pinegar counseled leaders and teachers on caring for the parents of an autistic child. Elder Pinegar of the First Quorum of the Seventy heads the Church’s Committee on Members with Special Needs.
A leader’s first concern, he said, should be for the parents’ shock at recognizing a problem long before the child recognizes his or her own condition. Secondly, parents should be reassured that they are not to blame for their child’s handicap.
“Parents need to understand,” he continued, “that they are not accountable for a condition with which their child is born—and that the child has every opportunity to attain eternal life that he possessed before he came to this earth.”
“The position of the Church,” said Elder Pinegar, “is that although children may be handicapped and may have difficulties, they are still children of our Heavenly Father, and they deserve every effort that we can make to help them realize whatever potential they have in life.”
Elder Pinegar reminded leaders and parents that ward and stake activities should be structured to include families with handicapped members regardless of the nature of the handicap. “If activity plans do not include handicapped members, then we are not reaching out to everybody. We’ve got to be willing to reach out and include them in our lives,” he added.

Because of that profound change (see Alma 5:14), a fire burned inside me that I wanted to share. Soon, I found myself in Idaho as a full-time missionary. Halfway through my mission, my father, who was my greatest hero and best friend, passed away. My mother called my mission president and asked that I come home to give a eulogy. When my mission president left the decision up to me whether to leave, I told him I wanted to pray and fast for 24 hours before deciding.
That night I had a dream. My father appeared to me. In the midst of sublime and meaningful discussions with him, he told me, “Son, stay on your mission.”
I followed Dad’s counsel and stayed.

When the youth of the Clayton Valley Second Ward, Walnut Creek California Stake, found out a group of orphans in Lithuania were living in severe poverty, they set out to make pajamas for all 96 of them.
“We had to cut the fabric out, and then we had an assembly line going. It was really fun. We all got to work together,” says 16-year-old Amanda Silvester.
Some spent the evening sewing sleeves, others ironed, and still others decorated lightweight tissue paper to wrap the gifts in. The completed pajamas will be sent, wrapped in their custom wrapping paper, with a tape of the youth singing to the orphans.
“I think it will be neat when they get them, because it may be the first present lots of them have ever had,” says Amanda.
“I think our youth realize how much we have, and they are more than happy to share with others. It’s really been a great project,” says Young Women president Marilyn Hulme.

We have seen many examples of this promise being fulfilled. Recently a young woman told us that after having researched her grandmother’s name, she had come to the temple to do the work for her. She said that as she was baptized for her, she had the clear impression that her grandmother would greet her in the next life. Experiences such as these strengthen testimonies and instill a desire to participate in further ordinances of the temple.

I interviewed a nineteen-year-old young man some time ago with respect to serving in the mission field. When I suggested that this was the course the Lord wanted him to take, he said, “But, Elder Rector, if I did that I would have to drop out of school.” I said, “Yes, that is true, but so did the twelve young men who are laboring in your stake and have brought some of your friends into the Church.”

I have been blessed to feel that peace every time I enter the sacred temple. I recall the first day I walked into the Salt Lake Temple. I was a young man.
I looked up at a high white ceiling that made the room so light it seemed almost as if it were open to the sky. And in that moment, the thought came into my mind in clear words: “I have been in this lighted place before.” But then immediately there came into my mind, not in my own voice, these words: “No, you have never been here before. You are remembering a moment before you were born. You were in a sacred place like this where the Lord could come.”

A Church leader told nine-year-old Margaret, “You are like your mother—cheerful, loving, and hopeful, and you enjoy doing good to people. These are also qualities of Heavenly Father. You and your mother inherited godlike virtues because you are His daughters.” Every time Margaret thought of the leader’s words, she felt peaceful and happy.

Roger Williams, pastor of the oldest Baptist Church in America, gave up his ministry with the statement that: “There is no regularly constituted church of Christ on earth, nor any person qualified to administer any church ordinances; nor can there be until new apostles are sent by the Great Head of the Church for whose coming I am seeking.” (Picturesque America, p. 502.)

When President Hinckley spoke at Sister Wirthlin’s funeral, he said that it is a devastating, consuming thing to lose someone you love. It gnaws at your soul.

He was right. As Elisa was my greatest joy, now her passing is my greatest sorrow.

Then we attended a district conference in Rio de Janeiro. The inspired messages from the pulpit prepared our hearts for an unforgettable moment. The counselor in the mission presidency bore his testimony about Jesus Christ, after which the congregation sang “I Need Thee Every Hour.” In that moment, the Holy Ghost reconfirmed the truthfulness of the things we already knew: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was the Lord’s kingdom on earth, the road back to the celestial mansion of our Eternal Father.
My wife and I and Marcus—Marisa wasn’t old enough yet—were baptized July 2, 1972, the most important date in our lives. All the members of our branch attended our baptisms.

One of our beloved hymns expresses the plea “Thru cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me!” I was once on a plane as it approached a large storm. Looking out the window, I could see a dense blanket of clouds below us. The rays of the setting sun reflected off the clouds, causing them to shine with intense brightness. Soon, the plane descended through the heavy clouds, and we were suddenly enveloped in a thick darkness that completely blinded us to the intense light we had witnessed just moments earlier.

In the October 1936 semiannual conference of the Church, the First Presidency announced the Church security plan. The name was later changed to the Church welfare plan. Since that time, the Church Welfare Department has developed and assigned to the stakes of the Church an annual commodity budget, supervised the production and distribution of commodities, encouraged the establishment of local production projects and bishops storehouses, supervised Church employment centers, and established Deseret Industries. In the course of these activities, members of the General Church Welfare Committee traveled to stakes and regions teaching the basic principles of Church welfare. President Romney did this for many years.
During this period and even earlier, the Church continued to develop a variety of other services. In 1919, foster care and adoption were introduced under President Joseph F. Smith through the Relief Society. Indian student placement was introduced through President David O. McKay and Elder Spencer W. Kimball. It began in 1953. Services for those who had emotional and mental problems have been provided for many years and were formally organized in 1960. In 1969 these various programs were brought together under the direction of Elders Marion G. Romney and Marvin J. Ashton. In 1970, the Health Services Corporation was organized to administer a system of hospitals the Church had developed over many years. The Health Services Corporation was also given responsibility for the worldwide health needs of Church members. During these few years of consolidation, the Welfare Department continued basically unchanged.
In 1973 these three areas—Welfare Department, Social Services, and Health Services—were brought together in one organization. The First Presidency appointed the Presiding Bishopric to serve as chairmen of the General Welfare Services Committee. To more clearly describe the functions assigned to each of these departments, departmental names were modified. What was known as the Welfare Department is now called the Welfare Production-Distribution Department, headed by Brother R. Quinn Gardner. This department continues to be responsible for many of the economic aspects of Welfare Services.
Social Services is now part of Personal Welfare Services, with Brother Victor Brown, Jr., as director. This department is responsible essentially for the social-emotional aspects and for employment centers. Legally licensed agencies related to Personal Welfare Services continue to carry the name LDS Social Services.
Health Services is now absorbed by Developing Welfare Services. This department is directed by Brother James O. Mason. Now that the Church no longer owns or operates hospitals, this department focuses attention on health needs worldwide; however, its major responsibility is to help priesthood and Relief Society leaders in developing areas of the world understand and prepare for the full Welfare Services program of the Church.
These, then, are the three departments that comprise Welfare Services: Production-Distribution, Personal Welfare, and Developing Welfare. The Presiding Bishopric, these three department heads, and the General Presidency of the Relief Society constitute the General Welfare Services Committee of the Church. We serve under the direction of the First Presidency.

Yesterday my friend and I argued. So today I didn’t walk to school with her. I may never walk with her again!
Usually when I cross the street at the end of the block, I look one way and my fiend looks the other way. But today I had to look both ways before crossing. I saw a car coming. It swooshed as it passed, and I felt the air rush against my face. I looked both ways again and crossed the street.
I walked down the street where all the houses are shaded by maple trees. The yards don’t have much grass, but they do have a lot of stuff that I call moss. My friend and I like to stop and rub our fingers across the moss. It feels like velvet. But I didn’t stop today. Today I just kept walking.
I turned the corner and came to the house that has a wooden bridge that goes from the sidewalk to the front door. Below the bridge is a flat, smooth lawn with a birdbath in the middle. Sometimes my friend and I rest our elbows on the railing of the bridge and pretend that it leads to a castle. But not today. Today I just kept walking.
At Main Street I waited on the curb. Main Street is wide and has lots of traffic. But there is a crossing guard to help. She stopped the traffic, and I crossed the street. Usually she says, “Good morning, you two.” Today she just said, “Good morning.”
I said, “Hello,” and kept on walking.
I almost stopped at the toy store. My friend and I like to look in the window. Besides lots of toys and fancy, dressed-up dolls, there are wagons and skates and bikes. But I didn’t stop to look today. Today I just kept walking.
Next to the toy store is a grocery store with a gum machine by the front door. It has red, yellow, green, and white gum balls. My friend and I both like the yellow ones best. Sometimes my friend and I stop on our way to school and try to guess how many yellow gum balls are in the machine. But not today. Today I just kept walking.
I crossed the stone bridge over the river. My friend and I like to stop and watch the sparkling water swirl around the rocks. Sometimes we throw pebbles into the water and watch the circles that form. But not today. Today I just kept walking.
I walked as fast as I could past the firehouse. I didn’t want to be in front if the sirens went off. They go shreeeow, shreeeow! The sound hurts my ears. My friend and I always hold hands and run past the firehouse.
I looked at the clock on the steeple of the church on the hill. I had ten minutes to get to school. Sometimes my friend and I skip fast up one path to the steps of the church. We sit and catch our breath. Then we skip down the other path back to the sidewalk. But not today. Today I just kept walking.
At last I was almost at school. I stopped in front of the house with a sign by the front door that says: “Built in 1726.” Sometimes I imagine myself living in that house way back then. But not today. Today I ran the rest of the way to school. It was a long way without my friend.
I saw my friend in class, but I didn’t talk to her all day.
When school was almost over, I looked at the clock six times. Finally the big hand clicked and moved ahead. The bell rang. I scooted out of the classroom as fast as I could go so that I could get home without seeing my friend along the way. I ran past the old house and the church. I ran past the firehouse with my hands over my ears. I zoomed across the stone bridge.
I stopped when I got to the grocery store. I slipped a coin into the gum machine. Out came a yellow gum ball. I stuck it in my pocket and ran past the toy store.
As soon as the crossing guard nodded at me, I hurried across Main Street. I dashed past the house with the wooden bridge and down the street made shady by maple trees.
After I stopped at the corner and carefully looked both ways, I sped across the street. Then I ran down the sidewalk. I stopped for a moment in front of my friend’s house. I wondered when she would get home.
As I walked up the front steps to my house, I felt something round and smooth in my pocket. It was the yellow gum ball. I decided to save it for my friend. I think I’ll give it to her when I walk to school with her tomorrow.

I would like to pay tribute to my angel mother, who for many years prayed that a husband would become active, that he would recognize his sonship to God, and that he would accept the priesthood. As a little boy, I walked through those many years with my mother’s sustaining hand at church, finally seeing my father receive a testimony by the power of the Holy Ghost. I honor him tonight, and I love him and respect him. He has been my friend, for he has taken me into his confidence. He has taught me how to work, and how to love, and how not to be judgmental. I am grateful for my father and my mother.

Nikki McCurry, 17, has been in the mentoring program for a year and a half to try to be better qualified to go to college. “For me, it’s important to go to college,” she says. “I want to do something with my life.”
Through the help she got at the mentoring program, Nikki brought her grades up from Cs, Ds, and Fs to be on the B honor roll at her high school.

Noisy Nancy Norris by Lou Ann Gaeddert. Doubleday and Company, Inc., 1965. Noisy Nancy becomes so quiet that complaining Mrs. Muffle downstairs asks to hear her playful noises again.

Then I met the missionaries. They gave me a Book of Mormon, and I started to read it. When I read 3 Nephi 17, I was truly impressed by the way Jesus took the little children and prayed for them. I knew that this was the right way to pray.
I decided to read all the scriptures about Jesus Christ praying. In Luke 3:21, after John baptized Him, Jesus prayed to Heavenly Father and the heavens were opened. When I read that, I knew that I also wanted to pray in a way that would open the heavens.

Sister Heaston shared an experience from when she served at a Young Women camp. She said:
“One of our … devotional speakers … taught us about ‘becoming.’ One of her statements … was, ‘Be someone who reaches out to know and serve others—throw away the mirrors and look through the window.’
“To demonstrate this, she called up one of the young women and asked that young woman to stand facing her. [She] then pulled out a mirror and put it between the young woman and herself so that she, [the speaker], was looking into the mirror while she tried to talk with the young woman. Not surprisingly, it didn’t even begin to be an effective or heartfelt conversation. This was a powerful object lesson that illustrated how difficult it is to communicate with and serve others if we are too worried about ourselves and see only ourselves and our needs. [She] then put away the mirror, pulled out a window frame, and put it between her face and the young woman’s face. … We were able to see that the young woman had become [her] focal point and that true service requires that we focus on the needs and emotions of others. Ofttimes we are so worried about ourselves and our own busy lives—as we look in mirrors while trying to look for opportunities to serve—that we do not see clearly through the windows of service.”8

Strange
To be away
From parent sounds
And the feel of childhood.
Fun
To find the college
Dorm has so many
Friendly doors.
Good
To have letters in the mailbox:
They miss me,
They know I’m fine,
They’re sending cookies soon.
Scary
To be making so many
Decisions affecting my future.
Thankful
To have brought
Prayer
As a permanent roommate.