Gospel Story Finder

Abby: It’s fun doing “Matt and Mandy” for the Friend with my younger brother Jacob. Once they switched it around and had me as Matt and Jacob as Mandy. That was pretty funny. We used to just read the articles, but now they are putting in more special sound effects.

As a young couple, Marion and Ida had endured great heartache. Their first two children died in infancy. But faith softened their sorrow—and a promise, given in a blessing when Marion became a General Authority, gave them reassurance: “Blessed are you because of your faith in my work. Behold, you have had many afflictions … nevertheless I will bless you and your family, yea, your little ones, and the day cometh that they will believe and know the truth and be one with you in the Church.” (As quoted in Ensign, Nov. 1972, p. 27.)

I was a typical high school football player with a typical football vocabulary. I was one of the captains of the football team at El Segundo High School and didn’t have the best reputation. Glenda’s locker was a couple of lockers from mine, and whenever she walked by I suddenly improved my language. I worried that if I offended her she would avoid me.
As the semester progressed so did our mutual respect and friendship. She was unique, but I did not understand why. One thing I knew for sure, though, was that she never attended the parties I went to.
So, when she invited me to a Christmas party at her home, I didn’t know what to expect. Although I enjoyed my friends, I had seriously considered changing my bad habits. I was searching for something different. I was interested to see what kind of a party she would throw. I put on my best clothes, poured on the cologne, and off I went.
Was I surprised! I was shocked to see everyone having fun, dancing, playing games, and drinking—soft drinks! After a while, I couldn’t believe that I was having fun too. I was surprised to meet Glenda’s parents at the party, since all the parties I ever attended occurred while the parents were away. Most everyone was a bit surprised to see me. Still, they were all smiles and treated me with kindness.
As the evening ended I offered to provide rides home to anyone who needed one. Fortunately, one particular girl I had my eye on during most of the party needed a ride. I drove all around town dropping people off until we were alone. I drove her home very slowly.
I asked her what she was doing for Christmas, and she told me her family was leaving for Argentina the next day. What a small world, I thought. I briefly explained to her that my family had immigrated from Argentina 11 years ago. She said her father had served a mission there, and they were going to visit some of her father’s old friends. Soon we were at her home, and I didn’t get a chance to ask her what a mission was, but the seeds of curiosity were sown and so was my interest in her.

As he grew up, Elder Ribeiro looked forward to serving a mission and he hoped he would be called on a foreign mission, but he was called to serve his mission in Portugal. He is grateful because it was an incredible spiritual experience.

Lucky Fights Back He didn’t really—at least not like everyone said that he did. Now the huge bully’s even huger big brother, Crunch, vowed to give him two concussions and a broken arm. Michael’s pointedly ignoring him at church hurt too.Dean Hughes8–12 years

One day when the king of Thailand wanted to have a banquet for all the princes and lords in his kingdom, he ordered the chief cook to prepare his favorite fish dish.

But the chief cook replied, “Your highness, there are no fish. No fishermen have gone to sea for the past three days because the storm has made the sea too rough for fishing.”

“Do you mean to say there are no fish for my banquet?” the king asked angrily.

“Yes, your highness,” answered the cook.

“Very well then,” proclaimed the king, “I’ll give a handsome reward to anyone brave enough to go fishing and bring me fish for my banquet.”

Although the sea was still too stormy for fishing, one brave fisherman ventured out and soon returned with a good supply of fish for the king’s banquet.

When the fisherman tried to deliver the fish to the king, a guard at the palace gate stopped him and said, “I’ll let you in only if you promise to give me half of the reward the king will give you.”

The fisherman thought the guard’s request was most unreasonable. But seeing no other way to get the fish to the king, he agreed, and the gate was opened.

When the king saw the fish, he was most pleased and at once asked the fisherman to name his reward.

“Give me fifty strokes of the whip,” the fisherman asked.

“What?” exclaimed the king. “You want to be whipped fifty times as your reward?”

“Yes, your majesty. Whip me fifty times, and that shall be my reward.”

“Very well,” replied the king in disappointment. “You will be whipped fifty times. Do you wish for anything else besides that?”

“No. I ask for nothing else,” said the fisherman as he was tied to the wall.

One, two, three, four, five … The whip fell painfully on the fisherman’s back.

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen … But the fisherman did not make the slightest protest.

Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five. “Stop! Stop!” cried the fisherman.

“Do you wish to change your mind?” the king asked in surprise.

“No, your majesty, but I want to share my reward with the guard at the palace gates.”

“What do you mean?” The king was very puzzled.

The fisherman then explained, “When I was bringing the fish to you, the guard at the palace gate would not let me in unless I promised to give him half of my reward. Since the reward I have asked for is fifty strokes of the whip, and since I have now received half of them, the guard should receive the other twenty-five strokes.”

Immediately the guard was brought before the king. “Is it true that this fisherman promised to give you half of his reward?” questioned the king.

The guard, not knowing what had happened but thinking that he was to be rewarded, replied that it was true.

This made the king very angry. He ordered the guard to be taken away and whipped twenty-five times—his reward as promised by the fisherman.

Then, turning to the fisherman, the king said, “Since you have given half of your reward away, do you wish for something else?”

“No, your majesty,” replied the fisherman. “I ask for nothing more than to serve you as a loyal subject.”

And the brave fisherman left the palace and continued to serve his king.

After World War II, my mother and father settled for a time in South Africa. My father was a seaman and the shipping company he worked for was based in South Africa and sailed the world. My parents had two very young children at the time and while my father was a world away from home on one trip, their younger child, Gillian, fell ill. She was less than a year old and sadly passed away during emergency surgery.
My mother was devastated. She was not only without the support of her husband, but also, because they were still not well established in South Africa, she had no extended family or even close friends to turn to. Fortunately, around the same time, missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints had recently knocked on her door and had been teaching her the gospel of Jesus Christ. I am so grateful for those missionaries.
They taught my mother that “little children are alive in Christ, even from the foundation of the world” (Moroni 8:12).
Something we never knew until we read about it in her diary decades later, is that in the days after the loss of her child, the mission president sent his car with a driver to take my mother to all the places she needed to go and to attend to all the matters that arose, including arrangements for a funeral. I am so grateful for that mission president.
His act of kindness to someone whom the missionaries were merely teaching has had long lasting effects unknown to him.

The Cataract of Lodore With illustrations by David Catrow, you will want this wonderful book in your family library to enjoy over and over and over. Young children will clamor to have the classic verse (by the poet laureate of England in his day) read again and again, and everyone will enjoy the sound of it as they pore over the lively, humorous illustrations of the poet, his children, and their dog going down the cataract (waterfall) in England’s beautiful Lake District.Robert Southeyall ages

I opened the door a little, but an enormous barrier divided us still. I stood back, away from her. I felt swollen and sore from so many tears, forever isolated by shame and disgrace, absolutely empty of any hope of future happiness. The girl at the front door was a numbing reminder of the most hateful part of all: that everyone knew.
But into my unyielding dimness, Karen spoke quietly. “Come back to school, Heather. No one will hold what your dad did against you.” That was all. I closed the door firmly without a word.
I listened to her walk away, my feelings unraveling with each footstep, my thoughts trailing backward.
My 13-year-old world fell apart when the local newspaper revealed, without feeling, the enormous surprise: Mr. David McPhie,* bookkeeper and owner of McPhie Accounting, was convicted of embezzlement and would serve his sentence in the jail across the river. It seemed so impossible, so comically bizarre. But it was so painfully real.
The subsequent events are unclear and without sequence to me now, obscured not only by time, but by the confusion and withdrawal I was feeling then. Dad was gone. He never said “I’m sorry I have destroyed you” or “I regret turning out to be a stranger you never really knew.” Mom was unreachable, struggling herself to cope. She offered no explanation of why this had happened or how to go on.
The sheriff came into our home. Everything of value was seized: records, books, furniture, the bed Dad had made me with the headboard shelf for pretty things, the piano. Mom and I slept on mattresses on the floor of one empty bedroom. Did we cook and eat? What activities filled the empty days? I can’t remember. Focused on my own grief in an intense and self-centered way, I clung to one determination: I would never go back to school.
I don’t know how many days I’d been away from school when Karen came. And I don’t know how many days it was after she came that I went back to school.
Karen was there for me when I went back, gentle, with no questions. And other friends I didn’t know I had were there, too: enough of them to elect me secretary of the student council; to teach a shy girl that if you are brave enough to smile first, others will smile back; to show me I could survive.
In the years that followed, our lives went different ways. My family was put back together. I learned to love my dad again. Then I moved miles away.
Through the rest of growing up, through high school and college and marriage and children and all the ups and downs in between, I’ve often thought about Karen. About a principal calling a few students into his office to show them a newspaper headline and to ask them how they could help. About one girl saying, “I’ll go.” About which way my life might have gone without that one pivotal act of reaching out.

As the brethren gathered for priesthood meeting, I was impressed to read to them the testimony that Elder Melvin J. Ballard, my grandfather, bore when he was ordained to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles on 7 January 1919. I quote a small portion recounting his experience in 1917 when he had sought the Lord pleadingly in a situation where there were no precedents for guidance:
“That night I received a wonderful manifestation and impression which has never left me. I was carried to this place—into this room. I saw myself here with you. I was told there was another privilege that was to be mine; and I was led into a room where I was informed I was to meet someone. As I entered the room I saw, seated on a raised platform, the most glorious being I have ever conceived of, and was taken forward to be introduced to Him. As I approached He smiled, called my name, and stretched out His hands toward me. … He put His arms around me and kissed me, as He took me into His bosom, and He blessed me until my whole being was thrilled. As He finished I fell at His feet, and there saw the marks of the nails; and as I kissed them, with deep joy swelling through my whole being, I felt that I was in heaven indeed. The feeling that came to my heart then was: Oh! If I could live worthy … so that in the end when I have finished I could go into His presence and receive the feeling that I then had in His presence, I would give everything that I am and ever hope to be!” (Melvin R. Ballard, Melvin J. Ballard: Crusader for Righteousness [1966], 66).

Marvin J. Ashton was born on May 6, 1915, in Salt Lake City to Marvin O. and Rachel Grace Jeremy Ashton. His parents taught him the value of hard work. He raised rabbits and pigeons and worked on a two-acre produce farm raising and selling fruits and vegetables. His ward didn’t have a Scout troop, so he and four friends rode their horses to a neighboring ward and participated in its Scout program, advancing to the rank of Eagle. While in high school, he helped in his father’s hardware store. He continued to work while he attended the University of Utah, where he graduated with a degree in business administration.

“Once when I was a baby, I was very ill and my father was away from home. It was a Sunday evening, and our home teacher—called a block teacher then—came to our home before sacrament meeting. He had heard that I was ill, and he’d stopped to ask if there was anything that he could do. Mother said no, so he left. But after sacrament meeting he felt impressed to come back. This time Mother asked him to bless me, which he did, and in the blessing he promised that I would recover. That night Mother woke in the middle of the night and checked on me. When she did, she thought that I was dead, because my skin felt cold, but it was only because the fever had left me.”

Carthage Jail, an angry mob with painted faces, and certain death faced the Prophet Joseph Smith. But from the wellsprings of his abundant faith he calmly met the Goliath of death. “I am going like a lamb to the slaughter,” he had said over a month earlier, “but I am calm as a summer’s morning. I have a conscience void of offense toward God and toward all men” (History of the Church, 6:555).
And what is the significance of these accounts? Had there been no ocean, there would have been no Columbus. No jail, no Joseph. No mob, no martyr. No cross, no Christ!

The Spurs unit at the University of Utah cashed in with a singing valentine service. For fifty cents clients could select one of seven valentine songs, ranging from amorous to smart-aleck, which the Spurs girls would then sing on the telephone to whatever lucky person the client named. Collecting the money was only half the fun.

The high point of their temple service is their most recent calling—president and matron of the Hong Kong Temple, dedicated in May 1996.
“My wife and I were thrilled with the announcement of the temple. We were planning on becoming temple workers, maybe even working three or four times a week,” President Ng says. “We’ll work more than that now!
“I was frightened with the calling at first and very humbled. I had feelings of unworthiness. But after praying, I felt confident that Heavenly Father would give us the spiritual strength and guidance we need to fulfill this calling. We are so grateful for this opportunity.”

Massimo De Feo’s son tells classmates that his father is “chief of the universe.”

Thank you so much for your precious New Era. I had been feeling very self-righteous and critical toward the Church lately. In my self-pitying foolishness, I had decided that the Church was no longer important to me, and I had decided to stop going altogether. But my friend Gus Travis had given me some New Eras and other materials to read.
I had decided to take a nap, but the thought disturbing my peace was “Pick up a New Era and start reading—NOW!” So I did what the Spirit told me and began reading the article “Ducks Are Different” from the October 1983 issue. It has straightened out my perspective, and now I have a reason to bear my testimony, which had been slipping lately. Thank heaven for the New Era!
Karen GautieauSaint John, New Brunswick, Canada

When he translated the Book of Mormon, Joseph recognized his weakness in regard to the English language, for he had had so little schooling. He studied the language, and when the second edition of the Book of Mormon came from the press, he had personally corrected the grammatical errors of the first edition. If you want to see him at his literary finest, reread sections 121, 122, and 123 of the Doctrine and Covenants [D&C 121, 122, 123]. This beautiful writing stands as a monument to a man’s ability to rise.

I saw between mountains of thought
a lonely idea
walking swiftly away.
I called but it did not hear,
and I watched as it disappeared
over the rise of my mind.

I have to wear glasses. One day when it was time to go to school, I could not find them. I looked for them and looked for them and had to go to school without them. Days passed, and it was Saturday night. I looked for them, as usual, but still could not find them. So I prayed. And I found them.
Mariah Mertlich, age 7Puyallup, Washington