Gospel Story Finder

I saw another woman once whose little girl had been violated. “I will never forgive the culprit so long as I live,” she repeated every time it came into her mind. Vicious and ugly was the act. Anyone would be shocked and disturbed at such a crime, but to be unwilling to forgive is not Christlike. The foul deed was done and could not be undone. The culprit had been disciplined. In her bitterness the woman shriveled and shrank into a miserable person. (See The Miracle of Forgiveness, p. 294.)

I shall always be grateful for being born of goodly parents who taught their children that this was a part of their responsibility. In our home it was never a question of whether or not we would fill a mission; that was assumed and just taken for granted. It was a matter of when. As a result of this encouragement and hope, all of the six sons in the family filled missions.

As mayor of Palo Alto, he brought about a number of civic developments and projects that serve Palo Alto’s needs today. But his warmth and goodness also helped him win friends for the Church. They grew to understand and respect the standards he lived by. Still, few of his non-member acquaintances realized the depth of Mayor Haight’s commitment to his church—until one night in 1963.
At the end of a city council meeting, Mayor Haight told city officials, citizens, and reporters that there was one additional item of business not listed on the agenda. “I want to announce,” he said, “that as of tonight I am resigning as the mayor of Palo Alto and as a member of the city council, as Mrs. Haight and I have been asked to go to Scotland for the Mormon Church. The meeting is now adjourned.”
Non-member friends on the city council tried to persuade him not to go, but he explained that the call to service had come from President David O. McKay, a man he regarded as a prophet. David Haight felt the only matter to be resolved was when he would be needed in Scotland.
“The Savior talked about putting your hands to the plow and not looking back, and I’ve thought of that many, many times,” Elder Haight says now. “You don’t look back with regrets, with a sense of wishing for what you had been involved in.”
That day, twenty-four years ago, he put his hand to the plow and has never looked back with regret.

Illustrations by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
Happy New Year!
Today doesn’t feel any different.
Why should it?
Because it’s a brand-new year!
If we want today to be different, I guess we’ll have to make it different. Any ideas?
Mom, don’t bother cleaning up. I’ll do it.
And I’ll help!
So does this year feel any different?
I think it does, a bit.
Happy New Year!

I recall speaking with a young man who first came to this community while in military service. One Sunday he wandered through Temple Square. Conversations begun here eventually led to his baptism.

Four or five years later I was interviewing him to become an elders quorum president. He told me of his childhood as an orphan, pushed from one place to another, of the loneliness and desolation of his life, of all opportunities for education and growth foreclosed against him. Then he came into the Church and received first one assignment and then another, each just a little beyond his capacity at the time; but as he served, his capacity increased.

And now he was prepared for a major responsibility. His entire life had changed. Today he is an officer in the Church, a valued employee in a position of responsibility, a good husband, an exemplary father, an excellent neighbor.

The Oscar vindicated to the motion picture industry Kieth’s peculiar way of life and his artistic integrity. When he was criticized about the cowboys in his film seeming extra clean-cut, Kieth responded, “I have every right to be as selective in my interpretation of what is life and reality as the next man does. Some filmmakers feel they have the right to portray the sordid side of life. I have the right to find the heroism in man, and to help reflect his divine origin, and to tell people we are children of God.
“I was told the film couldn’t be done. I was told that a movie with a prayer in it wouldn’t make it. ‘They’ said a movie with a patriotic flavor wouldn’t be popular. But we went into filmmaking with a determination never to compromise our principles. And it paid off, because we have proved that we were right,” Kieth said.
Kieth is very positive and idealistic by nature. He really believed that he was smart enough and resourceful enough to make a good film, and that is the way he sold the cowboy film. The backers said, “How do you know if it is going to be any good?”
“Good is not the question. It will be a good film. The question is whether or not it will make any money,” Kieth answered.

I am so grateful for the article called “Staying Power” (Oct. 2003) by Elder H. Ross Workman. Reading of Elder Workman’s unrelenting desire to serve the Lord, I began to weep, knowing that I am not the only person who has been in this situation. Elder Workman has witnessed rejection in serving the Lord. As I read this article, a peaceful feeling came into my heart. I have made a resolution that I will endure to the end. The article gave me an increase of hope.Sister Lucy James, Nigeria Lagos Mission

Imagine the morning scene this way: It’s Saturday morning and you’re comfy in your bed. You hear the door open and smell your favorite breakfast food. Your mom comes in and softly tells you breakfast is ready. It’s a bit of a different picture, isn’t it? That’s a softer approach.

I was twelve years old when my grandfather died. To me he was the epitome of a saint—kindly, gentle, purely good.
His death was difficult for me to believe, and it made me very sad. I had not only lost a friend but I was also convinced that somehow heaven had allowed him to die too early. In my childish (though enthusiastic) understanding of the gospel, I had been sure that he was destined to be a great leader in the Church before he left this world. He was a man of great charity, who had literally given his shoes to a beggar knocking at the door, his coat to another man who was colder than he. I was sure that his death came too early. He had too much more service to give.
As I look back now, I see that I equated service with high callings. So many of the Saints have a basic goodness, a charity that qualifies them to be disciples. But serving is not synonymous with position. Whether serving in a visible calling or in secluded corners, disciples follow the example of the Christ. A calling may formalize our work for him, but serving is a blessing available to all of us, whether officially called through the Church organization or in our daily association with others.
My grandfather tried to copy the Savior’s life. My grandfather’s life was not wasted. I was deeply affected by his life, and I’m sure many other people were also influenced by him. I will tell my own children about the patterns of goodness that emerged in his life in simple yet powerful ways. Any one of us can become a disciple by following examples of goodness as he did.

Many years ago I was planning to spend Christmas Eve with my family, and I was apprehensive about it. I had recently joined the Church, and my family was critical of my new religion. The situation worsened when I gave my mother a ride to my grandmother’s house. My mother had been drinking heavily, and I felt tempted to snap at her. The excitement I usually felt during the holiday season was replaced with despair. Silently, I prayed for help.
I tuned the car radio to the popular music station I usually listened to, hoping that would lift my spirits. But then I felt impressed to turn off the radio and sing Christmas hymns. I did so, and my mother—though surprised—seemed calmer. She even joined in singing some of the carols.
My mood changed immediately, and I was reminded of the true meaning of Christmas. When I thought of how the Savior unselfishly gave His life for us, my own problems seemed small and manageable. I realized that I had many blessings in my life and many reasons to rejoice. I felt assured that the Holy Ghost was with me, and I was confident that I could respond peacefully to any criticism I received about the Church.
Singing didn’t take away my problems, but it enabled me to approach my troubles with a positive attitude—and that made all the difference.
Kimberley Hirschi, California, USA

As a result of your great contributions, a new chapel is being built far away from any civilization, the first one for the aborigine people. It is an exciting time for them, and for the area in the north territories of Australia. It is so exciting that even the Lord Mayor of Darwin is coming to attend the dedication, spending a whole day. Missionary couples have been busy preparing the people. One man who owns a sheep ranch in Australia equal to the size of Utah and who was firmly convinced that the average native could learn nothing, came recently to a special meeting and there he sat as the aborigines’ young children sang, “I Am a Child of God” (Sing with Me, B-76), tears streamed down his face, and he said as he walked out of the meeting, “If I hadn’t seen it, I never would have believed it.” Faith, strength, kindness from a people who made this possible. A great appreciation from a people who could not do what they did without you.

I’m a convert to the Church, and I remember well the New Eras the elders brought to our house for my daughters to read when we were investigating the Church. I’m now serving as a full-time missionary in Michigan. I enjoy transfers because each new apartment has back issues of the Church publications. I’m in a position now to share the New Era with families that we teach.

I need to tell you how much I enjoyed “The Swing” in the February 1986 New Era. Stories like that are encouraging and uplifting. I’ve lived in the hospital off and on for two and a half years. I’ve been out one year this month. Depression about overcame me. My family would come and sit with me by the hour and read the Church publications to me. My health had gotten to the point that I needed to give some of what someone took time to give to me—the gospel.

My mission is about to come to an end. My health won’t let me finish at this time. But when I’m strong I’ll come back out and work again. Thank you, Sharon Bradley, for “The Swing.”

Upstairs, Mama hesitated a moment before going into the bedroom. “Emily,” she asked, “are you awake?”
“Come in, Mama,” a husky voice answered.
“How do you feel, dear?”
“Better, thanks, Mama.”
“Want me to plump up your pillows and raise the shade a little?” Emily nodded.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Mama wondered how to begin. She fussed with a thread on the coverlet a moment, then she started. “Emily, you remember last fall when your papa’s saddle horse Jake turned up missing?”
“Yes, Mama, and I remember how bad Papa felt when he found him dead and the mountain lion tracks all around where they had struggled. It was awful.”
“That’s right, honey, it was awful and we all felt bad, knowing how much your papa loved that old horse. But somehow we get over those hurts. Memories are softened in time, and we can more clearly see why things happen the way they do. Our hatred for the big cat gradually changed to an understanding that he was only acting out of instinct and that he must have been very hungry to attack an animal as large as a horse.
“Emily, I’m telling you this to help you bear some more hurt. And I’m sorry to have to tell you when you’ve been so sick, but there’s never a good time to hear some things.”

My friends and I rode our bikes down the dirt hill in my backyard every day but Sunday. But one Sunday, I rode my bike down the dirt hill. I didn’t have my helmet on. I hit a rock, causing me to wreck and almost knocking me out. I felt awful inside and out for what I had done.
When my parents found out what had happened, we all prayed together. Soon I felt better. I learned a great lesson in keeping the Sabbath Day holy, obeying my parents, and realizing that Heavenly Father is watching over me. He gives me a warm, soft feeling when I do something right. But when I do something wrong, He gives me a prickly, cold feeling. He can help with any problem and always answers prayers.
Jake Barker, age 7Sparks, Nevada

My avocation is to be in nature, whether hiking, skiing, sea kayaking, cycling, or even going on safari. As a child, I loved to be in the woods and to feel the silent, eloquent witness that the towering evergreen trees bore of the Creator. As I’ve grown to adulthood, I have learned by study and faith that if we understand who we are, the purpose of life, and the reason the earth was created—and keep these things in mind—we will treat this earth, and all in it, in a higher, nobler way.

The workbook, Addiction Recovery Program: A Guide to Addiction Recovery and Healing (item no. 36764), outlines the 12 steps and the principles associated with them. Each step has a scripture study section with questions to ponder and space for writing. One participant says that the straightforward approach of the 12 steps gave him hope. By the time Clifford awoke from a coma caused by a drug overdose, his marriage and career had ended. He wondered how he could ever put his life back together. “To have the gospel in little bite-sized steps, 12 of them—I could do that,” he says.

Starting out in high spirits, the youth soon began to rely on each other. The first day was a 16-mile, mostly uphill, grueling hike that took 11 hours. Brooke A., 18, says, “The first day was so difficult. The other two days were so emotional and spiritual because our bodies were so weak. We had to rely on something bigger than us.”

Augustine Okah of the Asaba Nigeria Stake took the PEF loan to study electrical engineering at Akanu Ibiam Federal Polytechnic Uwana in Afikpo area of southeast Nigeria and obtained a national diploma . He then obtained a higher national diploma from Delta State Polytechnic Ogwashi-Uku through personal funding. He worked and supported his education through his second degree. He was recently hired as a handyman for the Asaba Stake.

Members bear witness that the Lord has protected them. Some tell of escaping crossfire unharmed; others speak of being comforted after the death of loved ones. In December 1989, rebel troops attempted to enter the temple, but temple workers persuaded them not to do so. Instead, the rebel troops holed up for a time in the temple annex. During the skirmish, the annex’s exterior suffered minor damage, and the patrons’ housing facility was seriously damaged. But, miraculously, the temple was unharmed.

One of the Brethren went to a conference and brought back to me a very simple note from a missionary.

“Dear President Monson, You shook hands with me when I was 17. You told me to go on a mission. I’m here in Seattle on my mission. Thank you.” Think of it—the influence of a handshake.