Gospel Story Finder

After a day of changing from casual clothes for digging in the dirt of the gardens to Sunday dress for temple attendance, the girls were pleased by the activities that day.
Bille Jean Leffler of the 10th ward said, “I thought it was going to be something where we just sat and listened. I didn’t know it was going to be this much fun being together. It’s nice.”

I treasure the old photographs of my parents, Larry and Molly Hamilton, sitting on Brighton Beach in the middle of August about 70 years ago. They were on their belated honeymoon. It always amazed me how well dressed they were for the beach. I like the newspaper that remains at their feet from the fish-and-chip lunch they’d just had, and the 3d hire charge printed on the deckchairs. At first glance, they look like any other 1950s black-and-white holiday snaps taken with a Brownie box camera. But these images capture a very special occasion.
In the background of the same photograph is a figure standing on what looks like a chair, trying to talk to people as they walk past. My father recalled the actual day sitting in the deckchair hearing the words of an American missionary, speaking of a Joseph Smith and of gold plates. My father was amazed how the missionary kept pointing to the sea, saying “across the sea in America”. This was the English Channel, and across the sea was France. My parents did not speak to the missionary, but his words and the impression they left stayed with my father.
Why did my father react so eagerly to hear the missionaries? He remembered the words and feelings he had when he heard the missionary on Brighton Beach in 1951. I believe that every testimony borne in faith can touch a heart.
In Romans 10:17 we can read: “Faith cometh … by hearing … the word of God”. Perhaps like Abinadi, whose words changed the heart of Alma, that missionary on Brighton Beach never knew the powerful effect of his words on those who heard him. Many generations of members have served missions and received sacred temple blessings, because one elder had the courage to stand and declare his testimony of the Restoration of Jesus Christ’s gospel—on the beach at Brighton.

While serving as Secretary of Agriculture of the United States in the Cabinet of President Dwight D. Eisenhower, I was invited to give the keynote address at the annual convention of the World Food and Agriculture Organization at Rome, Italy. Between sixty and seventy nations were represented at the great international conference.
Following the morning session, which included the address, an impressive luncheon was given in my honor in the International Banquet Hall, which was decorated with flags of many nations.
The customary cocktail hour preceded the luncheon. I noticed as the men held glasses in their hands that there was apparently no liquor being served but only soft drinks and fruit juices. I mentioned this to my host, Dr. Sen of India, and said, “Surely many of these men are used to their liquor, which is customary during the cocktail hour.” He said, “No, Mr. Secretary, today we honor you and respect your standards.”
Following the period of fellowship, we took our places at the banquet table. Here I was even more surprised to find that there was no coffee being served but again only soft drinks and fruit juices. I said to Dr. Sen, “Surely the men attending the luncheon expect to have their usual coffee.” He smiled very graciously and said, “No. Mr. Secretary, I am the host. You are the honored guest, and at this luncheon we honor you and respect your standards.”
And so it was at a luncheon attended by distinguished leaders from many nations. No member of the Church will ever have cause to be embarrassed by real men or women because of his or her standards. Again, it is rewarding to maintain the standards of the Church.

That discussion led to more discussions during the week. By Thursday, the bishop had interviewed Cesar, and the following Sunday—exactly one week after his first attendance at Sunday meetings—Cesar was baptized.
“It was pretty fast,” Cesar admits, “but by that time I had already read the Book of Mormon. Before meeting the missionaries, I had also read Doctrines of Salvation, Truth Restored, and The Miracle of Forgiveness, and I had started Jesus the Christ. I felt ready.”

Jimmy stared out the icy window, trying to see through the dim evening light. “Please let someone come soon,” he whispered.
“Your sister’s shivering, Jimmy.” Mama’s voice sounded weaker than before. “Will you help her?”
He loosened the blanket from his bare feet. “Here. You can use mine for a while,” he said, tucking it around his sister’s shoulders. He returned to the window and again pressed his face against the glass. Suddenly, he saw a tall man standing at the end of the alley.
“Jimmy! Wait! Where are you going?” Mama called.
Her only answer was the door closing behind him.
Elder Palmer shoved his hand in his overcoat pocket. One silver dollar. That was all he had, but just touching it gave him hope that he would soon find a warm room for the night.
“Please, mister.”
Elder Palmer turned to see a small boy hopping from one foot to the other, trying to keep his bare feet out of the snow.
“Could you give me ten cents to buy some bread for my sick mother and my little sister?”
“Yes! Of course, dear boy,” he said, handing him his silver dollar.
“Oh, thank you, sir. I’ll bring you back your change.”
“No, you keep it. You need it more than I do. What is your name? Where do you live?”
“Jimmy Rose, and I live there.” He pointed to a door a short distance down the alley, then darted toward it.
“Excuse me, sir.”
Dr. Gray whirled around. He hadn’t heard the man enter his office. “Yes?”
“I saw your fire through the window. May I warm myself for a few minutes?”
“By all means. Come in.”
The man put down his traveling bag and sat next to the fire.
“Have you just arrived in town?” Dr. Gray asked.
“Yes. I’m from Utah. I’m a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
“You are a Mormon?” the doctor asked. “Where are you staying? I’d like to talk to you about your religion.”
“I’m traveling as Christ’s Apostles did, without purse or scrip, having faith that the Lord will provide.”
Dr. Gray studied his guest. “If you have that much faith in the Lord,” he said, “then I will be His helper tonight. Please come to my home and have supper with my wife and me.
The next morning someone knocked on Jimmy’s front door. He opened it.
“Hello, young man.”
Jimmy grabbed Elder Palmer’s arm. “Mama,” he said, dragging him to her bedside, “this is the good man who gave me the dollar.”
Mrs. Rose carefully lifted her head. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what we would have done without you. My husband died some time back, and I’ve been too sick to work. Our food and coal ran out yesterday.”
“But we have more now,” Jimmy said, pointing to a bucket of coal. “I bought it last night.”
“It looks like you’ve done a fine job of taking care of your family,” Elder Palmer said.
Jimmy stood a little taller. “I’m trying to, sir.”
Elder Palmer turned back to Jimmy’s mother. “There is something more I can do for you. I am an elder in the true Church of Jesus Christ. That means that I have the authority to act in God’s name and give you a blessing of health, if you desire it and have the faith to be healed.”
Mrs. Rose thought for a long moment. Finally, she said, “Yes, I’d like a blessing.”
A while later there was another knock on the door. The new visitor held up his medical bag and said, “Elder Palmer told me about your mother, and I’ve come to help.”
“I am already well, doctor,” Mrs. Rose said.
Jimmy started to close the door, but the doctor stopped him. “My wife ordered groceries and coal for your family, and they have just arrived. Will you help the deliveryman, Jimmy?”
“Yes, sir!” Jimmy ran outside. When he returned, the doctor was putting away his stethoscope.
“You have been quite sick,” he said to Mrs. Rose, “but you now seem all right. If you’re careful, you should be able to do your usual work.”
“It’s time for me to continue with mine too,” Elder Palmer said.
“I’d like to hear more about your church,” Mrs. Rose said. “Will you please come back and visit us?”
Jimmy grabbed his hand. “Yes, will you?”
“My wife asked that you return to our home too,” Dr. Gray added.
Elder Palmer smiled, “I’d be honored.”
Jimmy led the missionary to the door, but as he put his hand on the latch, he paused. How could he thank this man who had brought so much goodness to his family?
“What is it, Jimmy?” Elder Palmer asked.
Jimmy swallowed hard. “I—I’m glad I saw you through the window!” he said.

Several months ago, with another General Authority, I visited the beautiful island of Tahiti. Our airplane arrived at the Papeete airport at about four o’clock in the morning. We were met by a group of local Church leaders headed by regional representative Victor Cave. We quickly gathered our luggage and went to the hotel to get what rest we could before the day’s activities began.
As we drove through the quiet streets in the early morning light, we saw a man crossing the road in front of Brother Cave’s car. Brother Cave slowed the car to give the man plenty of time to cross and told us, “That man is from the local ward. He is hurrying to get to the temple. The first session of the temple doesn’t begin until nine o’clock, but he wants to be there well in advance.”
“How far away does he live?” he was asked. The answer: “Two or three blocks.” Brother Cave said that the caretakers open the temple gates early and that this man comes in and watches the day begin from within the sacred grounds surrounding the beautiful temple.
I marveled at the faith of that man, who is willing to give up his sleep and other activities in order to meditate and contemplate. Some would no doubt say, “How foolish! What a waste of time that could be spent sleeping or studying.” I hope that in those special hours of meditation and contemplation that faithful man is coming to know himself and his Creator.
Like that man crossing the street in Papeete at 4:00 A.M., hurrying to the temple, we can enjoy an untroubled conscience in the temples of God. Having a simple, untroubled faith can lift us above the selfish, sordid, and greedy aspects of the world toward peace and eternal life.

A boy entered a pharmacist’s shop and told the owner that he was Bob Brown, son of Mrs. Helen Brown. He asked if there was any possibility for him to work at the pharmacy so that he could pay for medicine that the store owner had supplied the family but that hadn’t been paid for. Mr. Jones didn’t really need any additional help, but he was so impressed by the unusual conscientiousness and honesty of this seventeen-year-old boy that he made arrangements for Bob to work at the store on Saturdays.
Bob’s work that first day greatly impressed the store owner, and at the end of it, he handed the young man an envelope containing twelve dollars. The boy took two one-dollar bills from the envelope and asked Mr. Jones to give him change for one of them. Bob put the other dollar bill and twenty cents in his pocket. Then he put the eighty cents change in the envelope with the ten-dollar bill and handed it back to Mr. Jones to apply against the family account. Mr. Jones urged Bob to keep a larger portion of the money. “You’ll need some money for school,” he said.
“No, sir,” said the seventeen-year-old. “Maybe later I could keep a little more, but today I would like to pay the ten dollars and eighty cents on our bill.”
At that moment some of Bob’s friends came by and asked him to attend a movie with them. He said that he couldn’t, that he had to go home, and that he didn’t have any money. One of the boys playfully jostled him and heard the twenty cents rattle in Bob’s pocket. The teasing began again because he obviously did have some money.
Bob finally said quietly, “Look, guys, I do have a little money, but it isn’t mine—it’s my tithing.”
Early in his life Bob had learned to be honest with his fellowmen as well as the Lord. Can anyone doubt that he will be an equally fine man, a good husband and dad, and a concerned leader who will help many others?

Krista loved Stanley Park. She loved the beaches. The playgrounds. The petting zoo. The train ride.
But most of all, she loved the aquarium! It had all kinds of sea animals. She watched a brown seal swim around and around.
But then she heard something. A girl was crying! No one stopped to help her.
Krista tugged on Mom’s sleeve. “Look. That girl is crying!”
Mom looked. She held Krista’s hand and walked over to the girl.
“Hi,” Mom said. “Can we help you?”
“I can’t find my mom.” The girl sniffled.
“Come sit with us,” Mom said. “We’ll wait with you.”
Krista and Mom sat with the girl. Her name was Sarah.
“When you’re lost, the best thing to do is stay where you are,” Mom said. “Then your mom will know where to find you.”
Sarah looked so sad and scared. Krista wished she could help. She said a little prayer in her mind. Heavenly Father, please bless that Sarah’s mom will come back.
Krista tried to make Sarah feel better. She asked her questions. She told her cool facts about seals. She even gave her a pretty seashell she had found at the beach.
After a while, a woman ran up to them. It was Sarah’s mom! She gave Sarah a big hug. They both said thank you to Krista and Mom.
Krista was glad she could help someone!

Randy D. Funk
(52) After hearing the account of Joseph Smith in a language she cannot understand, an investigator in India asks for baptism.

President Thomas S. Monson still treasures the memory of his boyhood Sunday School teacher. He said: “It was my experience as a small boy to come under the influence of a most effective and inspired teacher who listened to us and who loved us. Her name was Lucy Gertsch. In our Sunday School class, she taught us concerning the Creation of the world, the Fall of Adam, the atoning sacrifice of Jesus. She brought to her classroom as honored guests Moses, Joshua, Peter, Thomas, Paul, and, of course, Christ. Though we did not see them, we learned to love, honor, and emulate them.”

Lucy Gertsch was able to invite these honored guests into her classroom because she knew them. They were her cherished friends. Because of that, her class also learned to “love, honor, and emulate them.”

I have a big, tall brother
Who can reach high on the shelf
To get my books and toys
That I cannot reach myself.
So when my brother helps me,
I say “thank you” right away,
Then take the books and toys he got
And run outside to play.

Some years ago Elder James E. Talmage so aptly described what is taking place that it’s almost as if he were writing for our day. I quote:
“The present is an age of pleasure-seeking, and men are losing their sanity in the mad rush for sensations that do but excite and disappoint. In this day of counterfeits, adulterations, and base imitations, the devil is busier than he has ever been in the course of human history, in the manufacture of pleasures, both old and new; and these he offers for sale in most attractive fashion, falsely labeled, ‘Happiness.’ In this soul-destroying craft he is without peer; he has had centuries of experience and practice, and by his skill he controls the market. He has learned the tricks of the trade, and knows well how to catch the eye and arouse the desire of his customers. He puts up the stuff in bright-colored packages, tied with tinsel string and tassel; and crowds flock to his bargain counters, hustling and crushing one another in their frenzy to buy.
“Follow one of the purchasers as he goes off gloatingly with his gaudy packet, and watch him as he opens it. What finds he inside the gilded wrapping? He had expected fragrant happiness, but uncovers only an inferior brand of pleasure, the stench of which is nauseating” (“A Greeting to the Missionaries,” Improvement Era, Dec. 1913, pp. 172–73).

The small auditorium was brimming with people, most of them family friends and relatives. As a young man dressed in a formal black suit, white shirt, and black bow tie entered from a hallway to the rear of the stage, the audience began applauding. But when he stopped before the piano he was about to play and indicated he had something to say, the applause subsided.
“This concert, as you know, is dedicated to my 99-year-old grandmother Alice L. Kenner,” he said. “I would like to tell her that I love her very much.” Then the applause began again.
Only a couple of days before, Kevin Kenner, 19, had been a semifinalist in the 1982 Gina Bachauer International Piano Competition held in Salt Lake City, Utah. The Bachauer competition is considered one of the top piano events in the United States, narrowing a field of 200 entrants from all over the world down to 50 performers, then 15 semifinalists and six finalists. The winner not only receives a piano and prize money, but also a recital opportunity in New York.
Although Kevin didn’t make it to the finals (as he has in other competition), he was given a special recognition as the “most promising performer.” He was glad to receive the recognition, but he was also disappointed that he hadn’t made it beyond the top 15. He could have packed his bags and returned home to California to the rigorous practice schedule he had set to prepare for school in the fall.
Instead, Kevin was giving a free performance, open to anyone. That’s the kind of person he is. “It’s fine to make music for yourself, and sometimes you want to make music for music’s sake or for the judges,” he said. “But music is at its best when you share it with others. Audiences are who you make the music for.”

1. This woman was baptized in 1834 and later traveled 1,000 miles (1,600 km) by herself to join the Latter-day Saints in Kirtland, Ohio, USA. She promised her mother that she would return if she found the Church to be false, but she remained with the Latter-day Saints for the rest of her life.

There are many ways in which we can misuse our opportunities. Some time ago I read a tender story written by Louise Dickinson Rich which vividly illustrates this truth. She wrote:
“My grandmother had an enemy named Mrs. Wilcox. Grandma and Mrs. Wilcox moved, as brides, into next-door houses on … Main Street of the tiny town in which they were to live out their lives. I don’t know what started the war [between them]—and I don’t think that by the time I came along, over 30 years later, they themselves remembered what started it. …
“… This was no polite sparring match. This was … total war. Nothing in town escaped repercussion. The 300-year-old church, which had lived through the Revolution, the Civil War, and the Spanish-American War, almost went down when Grandma and Mrs. Wilcox fought the Battle of the Ladies’ Aid. Grandma won that engagement, but it was a hollow victory. Mrs. Wilcox, since she couldn’t be president, resigned … in a huff. … What’s the fun of running a thing if you can’t force your … enemy to ‘eat crow’?
“Mrs. Wilcox won the Battle of the Public Library, getting her niece, Gertrude, appointed librarian instead of my Aunt Phyllis. The day Gertrude took over was the day Grandma stopped reading library books. [They became] ‘filthy germy things’ … overnight.
“The Battle of the High School was a draw. The principal got a better job and left before Mrs. Wilcox succeeded in having him ousted, or Grandma in having him given life tenure of office.
“… When, as children, we visited my grandmother, part of the fun was making faces at Mrs. Wilcox’s … grandchildren. … One banner day, we put a snake into the Wilcox rain barrel. My grandmother made token protests, but we sensed tacit sympathy. …
“Don’t think for a minute that this was a one-sided campaign. Mrs. Wilcox had grandchildren, too. … Grandma didn’t get off scot free. … Never a windy washday went by [that the clothesline didn’t mysteriously break, with the clothes falling in the dirt].
“I don’t know how Grandma could have borne her troubles so long if it hadn’t been for the household page of her daily Boston newspaper. This household page was a wonderful institution. Besides the usual cooking hints and cleaning advice, it had a department composed of letters from readers to each other. The idea was that if you had a problem—or even only some steam to blow off—you wrote a letter to the paper, signing some fancy name like Arbutus. That was Grandma’s pen name. Then some of the other ladies who had the same problem wrote back and told you what they had done about it, signing themselves One Who Knows or Xanthippe or whatever. Very often, the problem disposed of, you kept on for years writing to each other through the columns of the paper, telling each other about your children and your canning and your new dining room suite. That’s what happened to Grandma. She and a woman called Sea Gull corresponded for a quarter of a century. Sea Gull was Grandma’s true … friend.
“When I was about 16, Mrs. Wilcox died. In a small town, no matter how much you have hated your next-door neighbor, it is only common decency to run over and see what practical service you can do the bereaved.
“Grandma, neat in a percale apron to show that she meant what she said about being put to work, crossed the two lawns to the Wilcox house, where the Wilcox daughters set her to cleaning the already immaculate front parlor for the funeral. And there on the parlor table in the place of honor was a huge scrapbook, and in the scrapbook, pasted neatly in parallel columns were [Grandma’s] letters to Sea Gull over the years and Sea Gull’s letters to her. [Though neither woman had known it,] Grandma’s worst enemy had been her best friend.
“That was the only time I remembered seeing my grandmother cry. I didn’t know then exactly what she was crying about, but I do now. She was crying for all the wasted years that could never be salvaged.”

In 1967, a friend of the Simonets in Nancy, Francine Babin, and her children, were baptized. Her husband, Jean-Albert, was baptized six months later. “When Francine read the Book of Mormon,” says Brother Babin, “it was as though the sun exploded inside of her. She is normally rather quiet, but after the missionaries taught her the gospel, she could not stop talking about it.”

Like the Simonet children, the five Babin children are examples of the strength that second-generation members bring to the Church. They are bringing up their children and serving as leaders in Paris, Versailles, and Mantes-la-Jolie.

Scouts and leaders from the Elk Grove Third Ward, Sacramento California South Stake, navigated 111 miles of the Sacramento River by canoe. The six-day trip allowed the young men to earn merit badges and several awards including the 50-Miler Award and the river runner’s patch.
Although no severe rapids were encountered, there was enough fast water and whirlpools to make the trip exciting. Each night a campsite was set up on the river bank, where the Scouts worked toward cooking, camping, canoeing, nature, swimming, pioneering, and wilderness survival merit badges. The group made special stops at a state historical park and at a fish ladder, adding to the excitement of the trip.
Scouts found opportunities to use their knowledge of knots and lashing when they erected makeshift sails to take advantage of the north wind that blew for two days.

One night, my friends and I piled into my minivan to go out to eat. All of us had a wonderful time hanging out. After a few hours, it was time to head home. When I put the key in the ignition, a thought popped into my head: “Let John drive.”
I thought that was weird, because I never let anyone else drive my van, so I ignored it. I started the van. The thought came again. “Let John drive.” I decided to listen. I stopped the van and gave the keys to my friend John.
A few minutes later, we hit a huge patch of water. Water shot up the sides of the van. I grabbed my seat. The van started to hydroplane. I was terrified. My friends shouted, “Hit the brakes, John! Hit the brakes!”
If I’d been driving, I would’ve listened to them. But John knew what to do. Instead of slamming on the brakes and making us spin out of control, John coasted through the water until we hit dry ground again. I’m so grateful that I listened to the quiet prompting of the Holy Ghost. Because I did, we all made it home safely.
Chantele S., Utah, USA

We found Athens hot and humid when our group arrived there. Without air conditioning, the bus trip left us tired and bedraggled. But it didn’t take long before the light-hearted quips and personal concern of the young people had the rest of us forgetting our discomfort. It was Carolyn who decided we needed some singing, and Virnell, Shelley, Bonnie, and Diane soon joined in.
As usual, Melvin was the first to help with the luggage when we reached our hotel, checking the number of pieces and helping the ladies with their heavier bags.

When I first started reading the Book of Mormon, the story about Lehi’s vision of the tree of life spoke to my heart (see 1 Nephi 8; 11). I could relate because I also wanted my whole family and everyone I love to be able to taste the fruit of the tree and feel the love of God in their lives.
For that reason, I prepared myself to serve a full-time mission and was assigned to labor in the Guatemala City Guatemala Mission.