Gospel Story Finder

“When I met Kenlon Clark I thought he was one of the cooler guys at my school. He was just a nice guy. We started doing things together, and he invited me to Church activities. The people at the church were really nice, and I had a good feeling about being there. Kenlon would tell me stuff about the Book of Mormon. He asked if I wanted one. I asked how much it cost, and he said it was free. I could just take one. I thought that was a pretty good deal.”
If you’ve been a member of the Church for very long, you’ve probably already guessed how this one turns out. If you figured that Bryce was impressed with the example of the members of the St. Paul Branch, especially Kenlon and his family, you’re right. And if you guessed that Bryce read the Book of Mormon, listened to the missionary discussions, and joined the Church, you’re right again. But if you think this story is predictable, you’re wrong. It’s anything but predictable.

I lived in a ward where one woman was like a beacon of righteousness. Jessica (name has been changed) radiated love and goodness every week in our meetings. She went from person to person, greeting them and loving them—especially those who were “hanging on the edges” of the ward. She invited the lonely to her home, talked to the shy ones, and went out of her way to spread her commitment to Christ and His gospel. It impacted the entire ward for good.

During this difficult time, I developed the habit of sitting down at the piano at the end of each day and, with one hand, plunking out favorite hymns and Primary songs. I would play “Our Savior’s Love,” “When He Comes Again,” “I Feel My Savior’s Love,” “I Am a Child of God,” and many others, always ending with “Abide with Me; ’Tis Eventide.” This nightly ritual became a comfort to my family. No matter what the day had been like, if Mom sat down at that keyboard and played some hymns, it seemed all was right with the world—or at least more bearable.
One day when I felt I had had all I could take, I sent the children into the house and sat in the car to have a good cry. After I had calmed down and prayed, I went inside. As I opened the door, I heard the soft notes of one of my favorite hymns. My son was at the keyboard, playing hymns to soothe and comfort me in my distress, as I regularly did for him and his sisters.

Let me cite an instance: A young [man] was invited to a wedding in a foreign country, at which two of his acquaintances were joined together in the bonds of matrimony, the ceremony being performed by a minister of another church. This young man was the only Latter-day Saint present among the 100 or more guests at the table in the hotel. By each plate was a wine cup, filled to the brim, and also a glass of water.
After the ceremony, as the guests were all in their places, the minister arose and said, “Now I propose that the company drink the health of the newly married couple.” They all arose. Politeness suggested that he take the wine cup. He was a missionary; he belonged to the Church that preaches the Word of Wisdom, revealed directly from God to the Prophet Joseph. Science since then has proved it to be indeed a word of wisdom. He was preaching that, and he was living it. Yet here was a time when he could indulge, no one would know. But he resisted. Now was the time to defend his Church, and that is what he did.
He took the glass of water, and some of his friends by him, dropping their wine cups, followed his example, and at least half a dozen wine glasses remained untouched. Others saw it, and the circumstance gave an excellent opportunity to talk with these guests about the Word of Wisdom.
Was he humiliated? No, he was strengthened. Were the guests embarrassed? No. Did they feel to condemn him? No. Condemnation was replaced by admiration, as it always is in the hearts of intelligent and God-fearing men and women. …

It started in the late 1970s and early 1980s when I moved from Eleuthera, Bahamas to the capital of New Providence to live with my mother’s brother and his family.
We lived in a neighborhood called Mount Vernon and it was there that I met Marge and Larry McCombs and their two children, Mark, and Dienna. Our two families struck up an immediate friendship and we were soon invited to Church. Never mind the fact that my family was generations deep in the Seventh-day Adventist belief and I was attending a school they sponsored.
The moment I entered the rental home on West Bay Street that doubled as the meetinghouse and home for the missionaries, I felt the Spirit for the first time in my life and I was converted.

Last year when nine-year-old Joy Tippetts’ stake president called her to work in the Church’s name extraction program, she was delighted. For even before she was six years old, Joy had been helping her mother by sorting index cards and doing other simple tasks at the extraction center.
Joy has been trained to read Old German script, and according to Wilma Taylor, a Germanic language trainer, “Joy is unusually accurate and does fine work. She is fantastic for a ten-year-old!”
Microfilms of religious and civil records in Old German script that contain information about persons who have died are examined on a microfilm reader. (Information is extracted from microfilmed records from other countries besides Germany.) Joy then copies, or extracts, the deceased persons’ names, birthplaces, and the names of their parents and grandparents from the microfilm record, as well as their birth, christening, and death dates. This information is then written on index cards and sent with many other cards to a Latter-day Saint temple where the necessary ordinance work can be completed for those persons. The majority of names for which temple work for the dead is completed are supplied by the name extraction centers.
Joy and her mother, Roxanna, are best friends, and they look forward each week to the three hours that they spend together at the extraction center. Joy says that she “loves to read the records and figure out who the people are.”

Elizabeth kicked an empty coconut shell down the dirt road. She frowned as it rolled away. Today had not been a good day.
Not at all!
Lagi said something mean to her at school. No one had played with her at recess. And then her art project got ruined. She’d worked on it for weeks!
“It’s not fair!” Elizabeth said. Who invented bad days anyway?
Elizabeth plucked a hibiscus flower. At least that was one good thing. In Samoa she could always find beautiful flowers. Even on a bad day.
She twisted the pink flower into her hair and walked home.
“Talofa!” Dad said. “How was your day?”
Elizabeth looked down. “Not very good.” She walked past the noisy pigs in their yard and sat next to Dad on the porch.
Dad listened as she told him all about her hard day.
“I’m so sorry,” Dad said, hugging her. “Days like that are really hard. Want to know something that might help?”
She nodded. “Yes, please!”
He started singing a song that Elizabeth knew well. It was a beautiful song that Dad sang to Mom all the time.
She laughed and pushed on his shoulder. “Daa–aad! That doesn’t fix anything.”
He grinned. “I’m serious! Good music can always help your day go better. And, speaking of music …”
Elizabeth knew what he was going to say. It was time to practice piano.
More than anything, Elizabeth wanted to learn piano so she could play songs in church. She already loved singing with her family. Especially with Dad. But playing piano was harder. Her fingers had to work to find the notes.
“I don’t know if I feel like practicing today,” she said.
Dad stood up. “Maybe it would help to think about what you’re playing.”
Then he took off his sandals and went inside to help with dinner. Elizabeth took off her sandals and followed him.
The sheet music for “Fa‘afetai i Le Atua” sat on the keyboard. Elizabeth loved this Samoan hymn. It was all about giving thanks to God.
Elizabeth turned on the electric keyboard and started playing. “Think about what you’re playing,” Dad had said.
Elizabeth decided to try it. She thought about all the things she was thankful for. Her family. Her house. Music. Beautiful Samoa.
Her fingers started to find the notes more easily. After a while, her feelings began to change. She felt peaceful. Elizabeth smiled. She was feeling the Holy Ghost!
Dad started humming. He stood next to her and began to sing.
She kept playing, and Mom joined in too. Elizabeth kept thinking about all the ways God blessed her and her family.
At the end, Dad leaned down. “Feeling any better?” he asked.
“Yes!” she said. “You were right. Good music did make my day better!”
What helps you feel better on hard days?
Turn the page to learn more about Samoa!

One sister was confused when her bishop unexpectedly asked her to consider serving a mission. At age 24, she had graduated from college and had been offered a graduate scholarship at another university. She was beyond the age when sisters usually serve a full-time mission and was hoping to continue her education.

But as she considered her options, a feeling grew within her that the Lord wanted her to serve. She decided to add to the counsel of her bishop that of her stake president. Her interview with him removed any lingering doubts. Others might have received a different answer, but this, she felt, was hers. She expressed a desire to serve a full-time mission.

“At that moment,” she recalls, “I was nearly overwhelmed with the impression that, if I died at that moment, I could face my Savior sure of his approval. I was doing what he wanted me to do. I’ve never forgotten the peace and assurance that came from him like a benediction.”

In January 2011 my mom died. It has been really hard without her, but we keep going, knowing that Heavenly Father loves us. When I read the Friend I am comforted. I can’t wait to go to heaven to be with my mom and my family and Heavenly Father and Jesus.

Around town—Nate knows why a bridge nearby has giant metal frogs on its posts. In 1754, people thought enemy soldiers were attacking in the middle of the night. The next morning, they realized it was just the loud screeches of frogs!

Some time ago I spoke with a priesthood leader who was prompted to memorize the names of all of the youth ages 13 to 21 in his stake. Using snapshots of the young men and women, he created flash cards that he reviewed while traveling on business and at other times. This priesthood leader quickly learned all of the names of the youth.
One night the priesthood leader had a dream about one of the young men whom he knew only from a picture. In the dream he saw the young man dressed in a white shirt and wearing a missionary name tag. With a companion seated at his side, the young man was teaching a family. The young man held the Book of Mormon in his hand, and he looked as if he were testifying of the truthfulness of the book. The priesthood leader then awoke from his dream.
At an ensuing priesthood gathering, the leader approached the young man he had seen in his dream and asked to talk with him for a few minutes. After a brief introduction, the leader called the young man by name and said: “I am not a dreamer. I have never had a dream about a single member of this stake, except for you. I am going to tell you about my dream, and then I would like you to help me understand what it means.”
The priesthood leader recounted the dream and asked the young man about its meaning. Choking with emotion, the young man simply replied, “It means God knows who I am.” The remainder of the conversation between this young man and his priesthood leader was most meaningful, and they agreed to meet and counsel together from time to time during the following months.
That young man received the Lord’s tender mercies through an inspired priesthood leader. I repeat again, the Lord’s tender mercies do not occur randomly or merely by coincidence. Faithfulness and obedience enable us to receive these important gifts and, frequently, the Lord’s timing helps us to recognize them.

The first 116 pages of the Book of Mormon, taken from the book of Lehi (part of the large plates of Nephi), were translated soon after Joseph received the plates. Emma Smith and Martin Harris were Joseph’s scribes during this time. These pages were lost and never retranslated. Why? Because wicked men had stolen the pages and altered them, hoping to discredit Joseph when he translated them again and the two manuscripts didn’t match because of their alterations (see D&C 10).
The lost 116 pages held the secular history of the Nephites, but Nephi had been asked to prepare two plates that covered the same period of time. We still have the sacred history of the Nephites that was recorded on the small plates. (See 1 Nephi 6, 9; Words of Mormon 1:3–7.)

Often, the activation energy needed for blessings requires more than just looking or asking; ongoing, repeated, faith-filled actions are required. In the middle of the 19th century, Brigham Young directed a group of Latter-day Saints to explore and settle Arizona, an arid region in North America. After reaching Arizona, the group ran out of water and feared they would perish. They pled with God for help. Soon rain and snow fell, allowing them to fill their barrels with water and provide for their livestock. Grateful and refreshed, they returned to Salt Lake City rejoicing in the goodness of God. Upon their return, they reported the details of their expedition to Brigham Young and pronounced their conclusion that Arizona was uninhabitable.

After listening to the report, Brigham Young asked a man in the room what he thought about the expedition and the miracle. That man, Daniel W. Jones, tersely replied, “I would have filled up, went on, and prayed again.” Brother Brigham put his hand on Brother Jones and said, “This is the man that shall take charge of the next trip to Arizona.”17

“My landlord was hooking up my TV set to the cable in my apartment, and the show that was playing as he tested the reception was very suggestive, so he said, ‘That’s junk’ and changed the channel,” said a young woman from Salt Lake City. “I never would have thought he would do that—but it helped me decide to do the same thing more often.”

A friend of mine told me this experience: A financially successful man came home from work one day and said, “Dear, there has got to be more to life than just getting up, going to work, making money, watching TV, eating and sleeping, and then doing it all over again! We have all the money we need. Why doesn’t this satisfy us? Somehow we are missing the purpose of life. What is our dilemma? Could it be possible that it is religion we are missing?” In the conversation that followed, his wife mentioned the Mormons. After serious investigation they soon found satisfying answers to their questions and joined the Church.

Are our reaching hands clean? Are our yearning hearts pure? Looking backward in time through the pages of history, we find a lesson on worthiness gleaned from the words of the dying King Darius. Through proper rites, Darius had been recognized as legitimate king of Egypt. His rival, Alexander the Great, had been declared legitimate son of Amon. He too was Pharaoh. Alexander, finding the defeated Darius on the point of death, laid his hands upon his head to heal him, commanding him to arise and resume his kingly power, concluding, “I swear unto thee, Darius, by all the gods that I do these things truly and without faking.” Darius replied with a gentle rebuke: “Alexander my boy … do you think you can touch heaven with those hands of yours?”

Susan wandered into the kitchen, where Mother was busy fixing dinner.
“Would you go get the baby for me, please?” asked Mother. “He just woke up, and this afternoon’s fun has put me way behind in everything.”
Susan’s younger brother Mark had spent a lot of time during the week sanding and painting his car for his first Pinewood Derby race. The derby had lasted longer than expected, so the baby had been taking a late nap while Mother tried to get supper ready.
Susan brought little Jonathan into the kitchen, pulled out a chair from the table, and held the baby on her lap. She sat there so quietly that her mother looked over at her and asked, “Why so sad?”
Susan was staring at Mark’s trophy on the kitchen counter. Mark hadn’t had a very fast car, but it had won the prize for “best looking car.”
“I’ll never get a trophy,” Susan said, sounding very discouraged. “When I went to Lynn’s birthday party last week, I saw her trophies for baton twirling. Claudia has a trophy from her dancing class, and when we visited Grandma last summer, I saw all of Uncle Robert’s racquetball trophies. The only thing that I’m in is the stamp club, and nobody gives trophies for that!”
“You know what?” Mother asked slowly. “I think that you already have some trophies.”
“I do?” Susan thought for a minute. “No, I don’t. Not even one.”
“Oh, I’m not talking about that kind of trophy.” Mother flicked her hand at the trophy sitting on the counter as if that kind of trophy wasn’t special at all. “The kind of trophy that I’m talking about is an invisible one.”
Susan looked puzzled. “An invisible trophy?”
“Well, right now you’re tending your baby brother, and he’s learning to love you, just the way Mark and your little sister do. Remember how you played house with Beth yesterday after school, even though you had other things that you wanted to do? Love is a wonderful kind of trophy, but it’s not the kind that you can see on a shelf.”
Susan looked doubtful as she gave baby Jonathan a squeeze.
Mother smiled and said, “I know of another trophy that you’ve earned. You practice the piano before school every morning, and I never have to remind you. Nobody hands out trophies for practicing without being nagged, but learning to do things on your own is an invisible trophy that will last forever.”
“What good is a trophy,” Susan wanted to know, “if nobody can see it?”
“Remember last fall,” her mother answered, “when a new girl came into your class and some of the kids weren’t very nice to her? You were the first one to be her friend and make her feel wanted. You certainly deserve a trophy for that, but friendship is its own reward, and a plaque on the wall announcing the fact would only spoil it.”
Susan was quiet as Mother put the meat loaf into the oven, but as she looked one more time at the Pinewood Derby trophy on the counter, she said wistfully, “I still think it would be fun to have a trophy to put on my bedroom shelf.”
“Oh, you still have plenty of life ahead of you to collect some of those,” Mother told her. “Just remember that you will probably never get one for the things that really count.”
“Why doesn’t anybody give out trophies like that?” Susan asked.
“I guess that the things that matter most are hard to measure. But when you do good things, you feel good, and that’s better than a whole roomful of this kind of trophy.” Mother kissed Susan on the forehead as she picked up the baby from her lap. “Besides,” she continued, “Heavenly Father can see the real you inside, and He knows that you’re worth a lot! Now, want to help me change a wet baby?”
“Sure thing.” Susan jumped up and followed her mother out of the kitchen without a backward glance at the brown and gold trophy on the counter.

When the darkness of night falls, we do not despair and worry that the sun is extinguished. We do not postulate that the sun is not there or is dead. We understand that we are in a shadow, that the earth will continue to rotate, and that eventually the rays of the sun will reach us once again.

Thank you so much for the article “I Found Peace” in the March 1996 issue. I have been through some hard times. I went on a camp for a week, and when I came back I found out my uncle had died. I got mad at the Lord because I really loved my uncle, and I had been looking forward to seeing him the next week. But when I read that story, I knew Heavenly Father loves me and will help me deal with my uncle’s death.
Cindy SimperCanyon Country, California

One of the most significant special missions was Orson Hyde’s call at the April 1840 conference to dedicate Palestine for the gathering of the Jews. On Sunday morning, October 24, 1841, Elder Hyde offered a prayer of dedication in Jerusalem asking the Lord to temper the sterile land as a gathering place for the Jews. The prayer also anticipated the rebuilding of Jerusalem, creation of a Jewish state, and construction of a temple.