Gospel Story Finder

A father who found it hard to express his love for his family was able to communicate his feelings through prayer. His daughter, who had misinterpreted her father’s manner as indifference, was thrilled as her father prayed, “Bless my lovely daughter to do good.” A shy young man who saw himself as weak and afraid felt pride and self-esteem when his father and mother thanked God for their “kind, gentle son.” (See Ensign, January 1976, page 37.)

It is not hard for me to remember when I was in college. I loved many things about college life: I loved learning. I loved the comradery. And I loved football.
I had always dreamed of playing football at the university level, and during my freshman, sophomore, and junior years, I wore a crimson uniform and played running back.
At that time, the world tottered on the brink of chaos. Opposing political forces roiled and ground against each other. Tension mushroomed. Nations chafed against each other. It was as though the entire world groaned in a burgeoning rumble, a volcano that had to erupt, that ultimately would erupt. Before it was over, every nation, every people felt the effects of those dark days.
I remember the day my father came to me. It was just after the 1936 football season had ended.
“Joseph,” he said, “do you want to go on a mission?”
I told him I did.
“Then you must go now,” he said. “If you wait any longer, you’ll never go.”
I didn’t want to believe him. I wanted to pursue my dream of continuing to play football and graduating from the university. If I were to accept a mission call, I would have to give up everything. In those days a mission call was 30 months long, and I knew if I accepted, there was a good chance I would never play football again—perhaps I would not even be able to graduate.
But I also knew what my father had said was true. My bishop was Marion G. Romney (1897–1988), who later became a member of the First Presidency of the Church. He had spoken with me before about serving a mission, and I went to tell him that now was the time.
A few months later I stepped aboard the SS Manhattan and began a long voyage that would take me into the heart of the world crisis. My mission call was to the German-Austrian Mission.
My first field of labor was in Salzburg, Austria. The mission was shorthanded, and not long after I arrived, my companion was transferred to another district in the mission. Soon I found myself alone in Salzburg, a young missionary in a strange, new country.
One other thing was happening that I haven’t mentioned: a large army of Hitler’s Third Reich was gathering just over the border, not 30 kilometers from Salzburg. Everywhere you went you could sense a mounting tension in the air. No one knew if tomorrow would be the day the panzer tanks would flood across the border.
I remember those days well. I don’t suppose there has been a time in my life when I felt more discouraged, more lost. The mission was a difficult one; no one seemed to have time for me or the message I brought. I wondered if there would ever be enough members in that city to make a ward.
Six weeks I was alone. Six weeks I waited for a companion. Six weeks I wondered about what I might be doing had I stayed in Salt Lake City and continued my studies.
Even though the days and nights seemed at the time to be never ending, they eventually passed. A senior companion arrived, and we did the best we could under the circumstances to serve the Lord.
That year as Christmas Day approached, my companion and I decided we would walk to Oberndorf, a little village nestled in the beautiful Bavarian Alps. You may know that the beauty and majesty of this little village are what inspired Joseph Mohr in 1818 to write the wonderful hymn “Silent Night” (Hymns, number 204).
On Christmas Eve we walked to the village and sat quietly for a while in a small, humble church, listening to the beautiful organ music. A crisp, clear winter night enveloped us as we began our return trip. We walked under a canopy of stars and across the smooth stillness of new-fallen snow. Perhaps it was a night not unlike the one that inspired an assistant priest to write the lyrics to one of the most beloved hymns in all of Christendom more than a hundred years earlier.
As we walked, my companion and I talked of our hopes and dreams. We talked of our goals and what we wanted to have happen in our lives. The more we talked, the more serious we became about achieving the things we talked about. As we walked under the light of a full moon, we both made serious resolutions.
I committed that night that I would not waste my time. I would renew my efforts to serve the Lord. I made up my mind that I would magnify any callings I received in the Lord’s kingdom.
That was also the evening I made up my mind about whom I would marry. I didn’t know her name, but I had in my mind the type of person she would be—one who lived the gospel and who was strong spiritually. I even described her to my companion—that she would be 1.65 meters tall, that she would have blue eyes, and that she would have blond hair. Sister Wirthlin fits all of the description that I made of her at that time without knowing her. And so that night was important to me.

I noticed one kid in my class sitting in the corner of the field at recess. Then I saw someone bullying him. I went to get the safety guard to help. After that I started playing with the boy that got bullied. I knew I did what Heavenly Father wanted me to do.
Conner G., age 7, Utah, USA

Of course, among the greatest of gifts is the gift of love. When I was called to the holy apostleship, President Kimball gave me a kiss on the cheek. I felt his whiskers. It caused a flood of wonderful little boyhood memories of being held by strong arms and feeling Grandfather’s whiskers as he kissed me on the cheek. President Gordon B. Hinckley has characterized President Spencer W. Kimball as follows:

One day at school when I was playing with my friends, I saw a new girl in our class. She was sitting next to where we were playing. She looked like she wanted to play with us. I invited her to come and play, and she said yes! I felt good that I had asked her to be our friend. From that time on we were good friends. I was sad when she moved back to her old school, but I’m happy I had the courage to invite a new person into my circle of friends. I hope I can do it again very soon.

Thank you for the article “What’s the Use?” (Feb. 1997). I’m not in a foreign land, but missionary work is hard. I get discouraged sometimes when people either don’t want to hear or don’t believe what I’m telling them. I really loved the scripture (Alma 26:29–30) that was used in the story. That scripture has really helped me a lot.
Sister Holly JohnsonCalifornia Fresno Mission

I remember one time meeting a fine young married man who was not very large in stature. He was a professional jockey who had worked for some Latter-day Saint men who owned a large stable of fine racehorses. They taught him how to be a first-class jockey and chose him to ride a truly great horse that they owned. They also taught Johnny the gospel, and he joined the Church.
A year later, his bishop called him to go on a mission. Johnny said, “I can’t go. I’ve got to ride this special horse in the Kentucky Derby. I’m the only jockey who has ridden him.”
However, after some thought, Johnny went to his bosses and asked for their permission to go on a mission. They told him that they had a huge investment in him and couldn’t spare him to go on a mission because of the Derby and the other big races that were coming up. They were sure their horse would win the triple crown. However, neither of his Latter-day Saint bosses felt very good about their decision, so the next day they told him if he wanted to go on a mission, they wouldn’t stand in his way.
He went on his mission, and on the day of the Kentucky Derby, he went tracting in Canada while the horse he would have ridden won. It went on to win the triple crown. The other jockey earned over $200,000 while this fine young man taught the people of Canada the gospel. To me he is an outstanding hero.

One day when I was home alone with my youngest son, I slipped on a step and fell. Resulting abdominal pain persisted for several days, so I went to see a doctor.

I was pregnant at the time, and tests indicated that my placenta had become detached. This condition required complete rest, or I could lose the baby.

I was worried because we had three little children and could not afford to pay for help. The sisters in my branch, however, found out about my condition and, without being asked, came to my aid. They organized themselves into three groups that helped me in the morning, afternoon, and evening.

They came to wash, iron, cook, clean, and help my children with their homework. A sister named Rute, who was baptized into the Church while I was confined to bed, became well-known in our home. Rute, a nurse, helped at night and administered necessary injections.

I didn’t need to ask for anything; these sisters anticipated my needs and took care of everything. When they had more help than they needed, one sister would sit and visit with me. They did this for three months.

These sisters gave me strength, love, and dedication. They gave of their time and talents. They made sacrifices to be there. They never asked for anything in return. They loved and they served, following the example of the Lord, who taught us, “Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” (Matthew 25:40).

Enilze do Rocio Ferreira da Silva, Paraná, Brazil

A few months later, Alasdair went to the theater again with his family. His mother smiled as they looked through the program together. “A lot of people have liked this play,” she said. “It should be good!”
After the show started, Alasdair started to get a bad feeling. The characters in the play weren’t very nice to each other, and some of them used language he knew wasn’t good. At intermission, he leaned over to talk to Mom and Dad. “I don’t like this play,” he said. “It isn’t making me feel good.”
Intermission—a short break in the middle of a play
“Me neither,” Sutton said. “Maybe we should leave.”
“That’s what Mom and I were thinking,” Dad said. “Let’s go.”
“I don’t get it,” Alasdair said as they left the theater. “Why did I feel bad during the play? The last time we were at the theater, I felt so good!”
“Maybe it’s because the Holy Ghost wasn’t there,” Sutton said.
“It didn’t feel very good,” Alasdair said glumly.
“It’s important to pay attention to how we feel when we watch things,” Sutton replied. “That’s how the Holy Ghost tells us what’s good and what’s not. He can help us know when we’re somewhere we shouldn’t be.”
As Alasdair walked with his family down to the subway station, he noticed that the bad feeling was starting to go away. Instead he was feeling happy that he had made the right decision.
Alasdair ran to catch up with Sutton. “I hope we go back to the theater soon,” he said to her. “But I’m only going to see plays the Holy Ghost can see too!”

When he became a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, he was put in charge of the Music Committee of the Church. When the hymnbook was updated in English in 1927, he saw that “I’ll Go Where You Want Me to Go” was included. I think this hymn has the greatest missionary message of any of our hymns. It has affected my life much the same as it did my grandfather’s. My commitment to go wherever the Lord wants me to go has taken me to almost every corner of the earth. As a General Authority, I have visited Africa, Asia, Europe, Latin America, the United States, Canada, and Russia. Truly the commitment to be a missionary has prepared me for a lifetime of service to the Lord.

Fifteen-year-old Renata Araujo’s footsteps echoed forlornly as she walked down the cold tile floor. Renata knew that when she reached the end of the hallway and entered her Young Women class, she would be the only one there. The formation of her new ward had made her the only active girl in the Young Women program. “I felt very lonely,” she remembers.
Renata isn’t lonely anymore. The once quiet and almost empty classroom now reverberates with the enthusiastic voices of 10 active young women of the Botafogo Ward, Rio de Janeiro Brazil Andarai Stake. This change took place over only one year. The story of these young women illustrates what can happen when Church members follow President Gordon B. Hinckley’s counsel (included throughout this article) to reach out—especially to new converts, less-active members, and nonmembers.

Everyone’s done it. You go for a Church interview and find yourself waiting with time on your hands. The Mia Maids of the American Fork 15th Ward, American Fork North Stake, decided to put something else in their hands while they’re waiting. They tie quilts.

Every month they have a personal progress interview with their adviser, and before and after their interviews, they tie lightweight quilts on a frame set up in the adviser’s living room. Ward members donate the materials. The quilts are then finished and donated to the residents of a local rest home. Actually, delivering the quilts is the best part, according to the girls. The residents are very appreciative—so much so, in fact, that the girls have decided to continue the project indefinitely.

When the call came to be a mission president, there was no question about his accepting it. But none of the family realized how profound would be the change it would bring in their lives. Becoming a mission president required him to give up a good job, and his daughters were concerned about that. As the time neared for him to be released, in July of 1981, one of them asked him several times where he planned to work afterward. He had no answer, except that he was not worrying about it.

Then, on 16 March 1981, there was a telephone call from President Spencer W. Kimball in Salt Lake City. The prophet asked how things were in the mission, and asked about the welfare of Elder Abrea and his family. But “I didn’t think he had called me just to see how I was,” Elder Abrea says, smiling. Then President Kimball issued the call to the First Quorum of the Seventy, as well as to the presidency of the temple that was to be built in Buenos Aires. He talked to Sister Abrea and called her to be the first matron of that temple.

Suddenly, everything about the Abreas’ life had changed. Elder Abrea remembers that President Kimball told him on the telephone that day, “You will never finish your mission. This mission is for the rest of your life.” He was sustained a member of the quorum 4 April 1981, and moved easily into full-time service as a way of life.

I hope that you will have the experience of being taught to read by your parents. Since my father was busy at the New England Conservatory of Music all day, my mother taught me to read when I was about four years old. One day we walked down Huntington Avenue to the shops in the center of Boston. We went to the publishing house of Little, Brown and Company. There we were shown a lot of children’s books. Mother bought several that were suitable for my ability. One was an attractive little primer that inspired my imagination. It was called The Brownie Book, a story about imaginary little creatures who did good deeds and went on a trip to the moon! I could see the moon out of our window at night. It seemed such an important object in the sky. The idea of anybody going to the moon brought many stimulating thoughts to my eager, young imagination.
Another book was a primer describing the coming of the Pilgrim fathers, the establishment of the American colonies, and the development of the nation into which I had been born. I was deeply impressed by it.

I know of a family with two children, the younger of which has an illness that requires him to be on feeding and oxygen tubes most of the day. His older brother, Jared, enjoys holding his little brother, kissing him, and helping his mother change and clean his clothing, tubes, and other equipment. Jared has a sense of purpose and an opportunity to learn service and the attitude of thinking of others. From these opportunities, Jared is developing Christlike attributes of empathy, patience, and kindness that will bless him throughout his life, and his little brother provides a steady, joyful presence that blesses the entire family.

Black clouds hugged the horizon. The barometer was headed for the basement. And a stiff wind from the south carried leaves and trash. But the sun was still shining.
The forecasters had been warning that a big storm was on the way. But from the way they talked, many figured the storm should already have arrived. This was starting to look like a false alarm, especially after the wind died down.
Suddenly, a shock wave of wind hit from the west, filled with dust and shingles and tree branches. The sky went dark. The wind shifted its stance to punch from the north. Huge raindrops turned roofs into snare drums. And when the first lightning flared, the thunder was so close behind there was no time to count “one thousand one …”
Soon, lightning strikes began to knock out electric transformers all over the city, while the winds toppled poles or used whole trees to cut power lines. One after another, neighborhoods blinked into darkness.
By then, many had lit candles. But you feel kind of silly when you’ve lit candles and still automatically reach for the light switch or TV remote. Then, you begin to feel helpless as you realize that the garage door opener won’t work. The electric stove won’t heat your next meal. If the power is off for a long time, unused food in the fridge and freezer will rot. And the stores will be closed.
After the storm it took days to restore power to every neighborhood. The big power plants were still generating electricity. But until it reaches your home, it doesn’t do you any good.

In all of the arts the creative person will find his way to attract a clientele. He will make his way up the ladder, step by step. And, he will begin with step one, which is to learn fundamentals and do them exceedingly well. Those who want to start at the top and climb from there usually miss the next step and fall to the bottom. Experienced professionals don’t make this mistake. I once invited a top Hollywood actor to take a leading role in a large theatrical I was producing, and he declined, saying, “If I leave here, there are 10,000 who want my next assignment, and when I return, I can expect to start again at the end of the line.” Those who paint a rosy picture of a swift ascent to stardom usually deceive rather than inform.

People sometimes yield to temptation when a situation arises that makes it possible for them to make money easily. The opportunity clouds their ethical judgment. One man, for example, held a position of trust in which thousands of investors relied on his assertions about the financial stability of a particular company. Had he told the truth about the company’s poor financial health, he would have lost the company as a client. For six years he lied, accepting bribes from the client in exchange for his silence. Eventually, the truth became known, the company collapsed, investors lost hundreds of millions of dollars, and this man went to prison.

This summer my brothers and sister and I were on the Bitterroot Valley swim team. Competitions were held on Saturday and Sunday. Our coach and teammates wanted us to swim on Sundays so we could help our team get more points. But we just told them, “Sorry, we are keeping the Sabbath day holy.” We decided that we would only swim relays and IMs (individual medleys), both of which are on Saturday. IMs are the most difficult events because you have to swim a lap of each stroke. We were able to keep the Sabbath day holy and still bring our team some points. We knew that we were doing the right thing when we went to church the next day. We had a good feeling inside when we listened to Sister Northcott, our Primary president, talk about how we should keep the Sabbath day holy. We hope we can continue to choose the right.

In August 1830, Hiram Page, one of the Eight Witnesses of the Book of Mormon, claimed to have received two revelations about the future location and organization of Zion using a black seer stone. These revelations contradicted previous revelations given to Joseph Smith, but many members believed them.
When Joseph prayed about Hiram’s revelations, the Lord taught, “No one shall be appointed to receive commandments and revelations in this church excepting my servant [the prophet]” (Doctrine and Covenants 28:2). He declared that “those things which [Hiram] hath written from that stone are not of me and … Satan deceiveth him” (Doctrine and Covenants 28:11).
Hiram eventually discarded his revelations, and all members unanimously confirmed that the prophet was the only revelator for Christ’s Church.