Gospel Story Finder

I was born with a disease called jaundice. Something went wrong during the treatment of this disease, so I partially lost my hearing and got a type of Cerebral Palsy that makes it difficult for me to make certain body movements and have balance.

Some few years ago we established a new policy. As the Church grew large, populous, and far-reaching, and realizing the cost of transportation from the far reaches of the earth to this conference, realizing the limitation on the facilities here even—for we had long since filled this building—we determined to take the conferences to the people.
And so the first was held in Manchester, England; the second was held in Mexico City, Mexico; the next year we went to Munich, Germany; last year we went to Stockholm, Sweden; and this year we have been to Sao Paulo, Brazil and to Buenos Aires, Argentina and the states in South America.
We have been highly gratified with the reception. We have taken a group of the General Authorities and we have held for the local people a conference somewhat similar to this one. We have sustained the authorities of the Church; we have given to them the benefits that they might have received had they come to this conference.
We expect to continue this program and to go to different parts of the world and take the messages and keep in close touch with the great numbers of people who are congregating in the far ends of the Church.

The children also like to do things to make other people happy. For example, whenever a missionary is about to finish serving a mission, the children surround him and sing and clap and dance to show their love and appreciation.

I understand what you are going through. I have struggled through difficult times in which my testimony has been shaken. The way I was able to get through it—and gain the strengthened testimony that I have today—was with constant scripture study and prayer. I read my scriptures every opportunity I got. I prayed morning and night, straining to feel the Spirit. Yet it all seemed to be in vain. But one day, when I got home from school, I knelt by my bed. I don’t know how long I prayed, but I did receive an answer. Just pray always. Study the scriptures. You will find the answer you’ve been looking for.
Christopher W., 15, Nevada, USA

Some years ago when I was serving as a bishop, a family in our ward experienced a crisis when the father lost his job. I was concerned about their well-being, and I visited their home to counsel with them and to offer Church assistance. Interestingly, they were reluctant to respond to my offer of temporary assistance, and so I took the matter to the ward council. In a spirit of loving confidentiality, I shared with them my concern for this wonderful family and asked for their ideas as to how we could bless them.
Our Relief Society president volunteered to visit with the mother to ascertain their temporal needs and to work with them in obtaining any commodities they needed—which, of course, was her responsibility according to the program of the Church. Within a couple of days, she had accomplished what I had been unable to accomplish, and the family humbly and gratefully accepted commodity assistance. The elders quorum president counseled with the father of the family—which, of course, was his right and duty—and worked with him on ways to find a job. Our Young Men president noticed that the family’s house was in desperate need of painting, and he arranged for his priests to work with the high priests group to paint the house.
During the course of my conversation with the parents, I discovered that they were heavily in debt and were in arrears on their mortgage. Following approved welfare guidelines, I inquired about the ability of their extended family to help but received little information. Our Relief Society president, however, was able to learn that the mother had a brother who was wealthy.
“There’s no reason to contact him,” the mother said. “We haven’t even spoken in years.”
I understood her dilemma, and yet I felt it was important to follow the order of the Church. And so I counseled with her and eventually received her permission to contact her brother, who lived in a distant city. I called him and explained the difficult circumstances in which his younger sister was living. Within three days he arrived in Salt Lake City and helped get his sister’s financial affairs in order. Meanwhile, our elders quorum president helped her husband find a steady job with a good income.
More important, however, was that they were closer and more united as a family. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that tender moment of reunion between the mother and her brother after years of estrangement. Although her brother had become alienated from the Church, there was an immediate spirit-to-spirit bonding. As a result, the brother eventually returned to full activity in the Church and renewed his relationship with his family.
All of this happened because of the inspired work of a faithful ward council functioning according to the program that God has outlined for His children through His servants.

On a later visit to Cimezile, Richard and I found Brother Nqunqa very ill. We blessed and passed the sacrament—but not until after he had risen and dressed himself, insisting that he had to have his jacket and tie on to show proper reverence for the sacrament. He wept as he told us that he knew Richard and I would come that Sunday and that the Spirit had witnessed to him all would be well. Before we left, Richard and I blessed Brother Nqunqa through the power of the priesthood.
The next day, I went to Brother Nqunqa’s home to see how he was feeling. His wife, Judith, assured me he had been completely healed—he was down in the fields, attending to his plowing.

One summer morning before World War II, my great-grandfather woke up as he always did—before sunrise. He went outside his house on a hill overlooking a green valley and his village in Romania, and sat on the grass covered by the early morning dew, deeply absorbed in his thoughts—the same thoughts that had been on his mind for a while. An educated man with a big heart and an inquisitive mind, he was loved and respected by everyone in the village.
His village, situated in the land of the ancient river Olt, was the prototype of the eternal image of the Romanian village, in which archaism combines with fairy-like landscapes, a treasure of picturesque customs, and a natural responsibility to care for the objects and traditions one inherits from one’s forefathers and pass them to the next generation.
After the sun arose, he went inside the house and confessed to his wife that he had been curious to see what his funeral would be like, and he wanted to have a dress-rehearsal funeral. He set the date, bought the coffin, hired the priest and professional mourners, and acquired all other items required by the Greek Orthodox tradition. The day of the dress-rehearsal funeral came. The tables were set in the middle of the village for the remembrance feast, the family was all dressed in black, the priest came, my great-grandfather lay down in the coffin, rearranging the pillow so he could have a comfortable view, and the funeral procession began. When the ceremony ended, the whole village was invited to the feast, where my great-grandfather fulfilled his dream of dancing at his own funeral. He lived another 20 years, often checking to see if his coffin still fit him.

It’s a beautiful sound when all the members of the London Ward in Winnipeg, Canada, sing hymns with the organ music in their chapel. Thirteen-year-old Marvin Cardona is the organist. Anywhere there’s music in the London Ward, you’ll most likely find one of the youth from the ward providing the accompaniment.
It’s strange to think that only a few months ago the members in this ward would either sing without accompaniment in their meetings or play the Church-produced tapes of the hymns as they sang.
Everyone prefers having the young people in the ward play the hymns now. Andrew Cardona, 17, says, “Everyone actually sings in time now. Sometimes we were off a few beats [from the tape]. You feel the Spirit more now.” Jackie Famini, 13, agrees. “It’s nice to have someone play the piano instead of listening to the tapes.”
When the London Ward was split from another ward, there was no one left in the ward boundaries who could play the organ or the piano well enough to accompany the congregation. That’s where Elder and Sister Heap entered the scene. They are a missionary couple who realized that once they left the ward, there would be no one who could play the piano. So they decided to teach music lessons to anyone who was interested.
Almost all the youth in the ward signed up. “I heard about all the other people taking lessons, and I was interested because I wanted to play the piano,” says Sherri Cardona, 15. “So I asked Sister Heap, and she said yes.” Sherri now rotates with other girls in the ward to play the keyboard for Young Women opening exercises.

The community of Raleigh, North Carolina, likes what the LDS kids do so much that they’ve started counting on them every year to help sponsor their Special Olympic soccer games.
The LDS youth coach the teams, work as linesmen, and run errands. They also enthusiastically cheer the competitors on to do their best, which is one of the most important contributions of all.
After this year’s competition, the youth hosted an awards banquet and dance in a brightly decorated recreation building for the 375 athletes, volunteers, and families. It was everyone’s favorite part.
Altogether this year, 65 youth volunteered more than 500 hours of service.

Born and raised in the village of Tafua on the island of Savai’i, Valaei married Leali’ie’e Ova Taleni from the village of Vaiafai, Iva on Savai’i.

Valaei began her life in the Congregational Christian Church of Samoa (CCCS), also known as the EFKS church. Her husband introduced her to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and she was baptised in the McKay Branch (now a ward) on Savai’i.

On another occasion we were eating in Brazil with some friends, and they served us avocado. Just as we were about to sprinkle salt on it, our friends said to us, “What are you doing? We already put sugar on the avocado!” Avocado with sugar! That seemed so odd to us. But then we learned that the odd ones were my wife and I, who did not eat avocado with sugar. In Brazil, avocado sprinkled with sugar is normal.
Now it is not odd for either my wife, Patricia, or for me to eat coconut with chili and avocado with sugar—in fact, we like it. However, exaltation is something much more transcendent than a sense of taste; it is a topic related to eternity.

One hot August afternoon in 1898, Francella Adams bicycled up Brigham Street in Salt Lake City to visit some girl friends. She found them “on the cool, vine-covered porch in thin, fluffy dresses, their fingers daintily drawing bright-colored silks in and out of pieces of linen on embroidery hoops.” She asked them what they were doing, and they replied, “Oh, we are making our Christmas presents.”
Sister Adams recorded the incident in the September 1898 Young Woman’s Journal, a monthly magazine for young women of the Church. Eight years earlier the Journal had begun printing “Fancy Work” instructions at the direction of editor Susa Young Gates. Directions for making many inexpensive items suitable for Christmas presents were subsequently printed in the Journal. Most could be made in a few hours with such common materials as fabric remnants, thread, glue, cotton, snapshots, ribbon, and yarn.

Some of Karen Sharp’s friends claim she has rocks in her head. After all, a look into her room reveals rocks everywhere. Boxes filled with sorted stones are neatly laid across the floor. More rocks are sitting on a paint-splattered table. Some of these are glued together, and close observation reveals distinct shapes beginning to form. Some resemble bears, lions, and hippopotamuses. Others take a shape almost human in nature—bishops, missionaries, skiers, doctors, golfers.
A 19-year-old member of the Bountiful [Utah] 21st Ward, Karen first began painting rocks a little over three years ago. She experimented gluing together different shapes and sizes of rocks and came up with some unique ducks and fish, which won her a Best of Show award in Bountiful’s Handcart Days craft contest. People came next, so for Christmas Karen put together a “portrait in stone” of her family, including the dog. A pebble zoo and a small village full of shops followed next. Karen’s stony craft is now selling in stores and shops throughout her home region and as far away as North Dakota and Seattle.
She has also taught art to children in her home. Taking over a bedroom as a studio and classroom, Karen organized her course into eight lessons on different artistic skills. Her miniature artists liked the lesson on rocks best of all. Rock art has proven so popular, in fact, that Karen is writing a book she hopes will be published.
To make her rock figures, Karen selects stones of just the right sizes and shapes. These are sorted into “heads,” “trunks,” “shoes,” whatever she happens to need. From there she glues them together and adds ski poles, golf clubs, or whatever, with a fast-drying epoxy. When the glue is dry, she paints the solid colors, then adds eyes, mouth, and perhaps a tuft of hair out of colored yarn.
Rock art is fun, imaginative, and not too complicated for you to try. With if you can capture your dad’s big feet, brother’s big grin, and sister’s freckles—and they’ll love it too.

Elizabeth Davis, 16, works at a Pepperell fast-food restaurant. She’s cleaning tables as a tape deck blares in a back room. She says work has been good for her.
“I need to work. I need the responsibility—having people who depend on me to come in and be on time.
“Some days you get in there and say, ‘I don’t want to do this. This is so boring.’ And you’re grumpy at the customers and they are getting mad at you and you realize you have to cut that out.
“It’s helped me deal with people. I used to get kind of flustered around people I didn’t know. But now I can talk and even smile.”
As a rule, it is best to pay your tithing as soon as you receive your paycheck. “If it’s sitting around I might spend it,” says Elizabeth.

Finally Wilford arrived in Memphis. Tired and dirty, he went to an inn.
“I am a minister, traveling without purse or scrip,” he told the innkeeper. “I would be happy to preach in exchange for food and a bed.”
“You don’t look like a minister,” the innkeeper said. “This man says he’s a preacher!” he called out to the men nearby. The men laughed and gathered around. Wilford looked at them. He had never preached to so many people. They looked more frightening than a bear or a pack of wolves.
Wilford said a silent prayer. The Lord had protected and provided for him and healed his knee. Surely he could teach these men. “Do you want to hear what the Lord has to tell you?” he asked.
“Bring it on, preacher!” they jeered. Wilford knelt and prayed aloud. He asked the Lord to tell him what those men needed to hear. Then he gave a talk and told the men to repent. When he finished speaking, the room was quiet.
“You’ve earned a bath, a meal, and a bed, preacher,” the innkeeper said. “Anytime you’re in Memphis, you can stay here, but that’s enough preaching.”
Wilford knew he had taught with the Spirit. He had arrived in his mission field prepared.

After two years of custodial work, another ward was added to our building, making a total of four. On Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday we had Relief Society, with the officers arriving as early as 8:30 A.M. The Relief Society room, foyer, kitchen, south steps, nursery, and rest rooms had to be ready. While Relief Society was in session, we cleaned the rest of the classrooms, the chapel and the cultural hall.

Then at 3:00 the Primary officers began to arrive. The relief society room, nurseries, kitchen and rest rooms had to be checked and cleaned if needed. When Primary was over we picked up, swept, straightened chairs, and cleaned backboards to get ready for activity night. This went for about a year; then two wards moved out of the building. It seemed like we were on vacation!

As you all know, three months ago our beloved President Joseph Fielding Smith was called home to his great reward and to other duties. He was certainly a true servant of the Lord and a prophet of God, who from his childhood lived to the best of his ability the teachings of the gospel and kept his covenants. He was a man without guile, and his passing was as near a translation as possible.
The Thursday before his death he gave a powerful address to the seminar of the Regional Representatives and Mission Representatives assembled in Salt Lake City. Sunday, July 2, the day of his death, he attended his Sunday meetings in his ward and participated as usual. He returned home, and after his evening meal he sat in his favorite chair talking to his daughter and quietly passed from mortal life.

In spring, I spade my garden, (Pretend to dig.)
Then make a long, straight row. (Act like you are making a row with a hoe.)
I place the seeds in, one by one, (Plant seeds.)
And cover them just so. (Pat dirt over seeds.)
I water all the little seeds, (Sprinkle seeds with watering can.)
Pull weeds until it’s neat. (Pretend to pull weeds.)
And then I pick my vegetables, (Bend over and pick.)
And eat and eat and eat. (Eat tomatoes, corn, carrots, peas, etc.)

As wonderful as the increased attendance was, it presented a problem. We were meeting in a small building off Chung Cheng Road and did not have room for all who wanted to come. So we moved to a larger building on Chung Shan North Road. Though the building was larger, we did not have enough chairs, and in those days it was difficult to obtain materials through normal Church channels. We felt blessed when a member bought 100 chairs and donated them to our chapel. He also bought a piano to replace the old, dilapidated organ we had found in the building.

I would like to thank you for the New Era. I just came home from school and saw a pile of New Eras on my study desk, just crying to be read. As I began my journey through those magic pages, fond memories came to me, reminding me how much those articles helped me in times of need. In every magazine I find something to help me. I really love reading the fiction stories and the Mormonisms. The article “A Notebook by Any Other Name” by Janet Brigham in the June 1980 New Era helped me begin my journal, which was once a great stumbling block. “Taking Control of Your Life and Other Odds and Ends” (September 1980) helped me to establish study habits for grade 11, and the article “Decisions Determine Destiny” (November 1979) helped me decide to return to school after a year of absence. I would like to thank the people who have contributed to the New Era. I know many other Latter-day Saints who really love reading it.
Vannessa MorganBrown Plains, Queensland, Australia