Gospel Story Finder

Naturalist Loren Eiseley had an experience on one of these beaches that has become a well-known parable on the preservation of life. Very early one morning, Eiseley encountered a solitary man searching the shoreline after a storm.
“Do you collect?” asked Eiseley. “Only like this,” replied the man, casting a struggling starfish far out to sea, “and only for the living.”
“The stars … throw well,” he observed. “One can help them.” (The Star Thrower, New York: Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich, p. 172.)
This man, whom Eiseley called the “star thrower”, was no ordinary collector. His sole interest was to save the starfish from anxious tourists, to protect their right to swim again in the ocean.

The Q&A section in the Feb. 08 issue gave me a good understanding of how my mom might feel when we fight. Ever since reading it, we haven’t been fighting. Thank you so much for all of the good advice you give. I really appreciate it.
Taylor W., Nevada

Lights! Camera! Action! Will Norman Mormon (yeah!) be able to foil Sam Snitch (hiss!) and rescue Lora Lovely from his evil clutches?
The Cody Second Ward, Cody Wyoming Stake, filmed the answer to this and other pressing questions, with the Aaronic Priesthood and the Young Women getting into the act. The script for “Norman Mormon Bites the Dust!” was written by two members of the Laurel class, but the whole group helped brainstorm the plot, characters, and dialogue.
In addition to acting chores, the young people worked on lettering, make-up, props, costumes, or filming committees. Except for the horses that were of the stick variety, everything was authentic. The film was a special high-speed film made to run slightly faster and look a little grainy. The setting—at nearby Trail Town—was an old, rebuilt western street complete with wagons, boardwalk, and cabins filled with brass beds, old quilts, antique chests, chairs, and a player piano. A costume shop loaned them many old, gay nineties costumes. Of course, the hero dressed in white and the villain in black. And even their fake mustaches were made of real hair. The only requirement to act in the play was a willingness to be a ham!
After the action shots were completed, the film crew, working with their specialist, took still photos of written conversation placards. Cards included “Ladies, please remove your hats” and “Please keep your laughing to yourself. It might disturb others.” An introduction shot of a “roaring” toy tiger was also added. The stills were spliced into the film as it was edited. A talented musical specialist helped work out a sound track of old-time songs and ragtime music appropriate to each scene.
The melodrama premiered at a two-ward party, and if enthusiastic hurrahs, yeahs, hisses, and boos from the audience are any indication, the film was a huge success. But that wasn’t the end of Norman Mormon. The young people immediately made plans to show the film at the local nursing home.
Everyone involved in “Norman Mormon Bites the Dust” agreed that it was a fun way for young people to learn new skills and create unity.

Have you ever made a mistake? Have you ever felt sorry about something that you have done? Here is a true story of a responsible boy named Travis. He learned that being accountable for his actions by repenting made him feel good about himself.
1. Travis was having fun playing with Matt’s toys. He wished that they were his own.
2. I’ll borrow them, he thought, putting several toys into his pocket without asking Matt.
3. When Travis played with the toys in his bedroom at home, it wasn’t much fun.
4. His mother asked him why he was unhappy.
5. Travis told his mother that he had borrowed Matt’s toys without asking and that now he felt awful about it.
6. “It is wrong to take something that belongs to someone else,” said Travis’s mother. “What will make it right?”
7. “I’ll feel better if Matt has his toys back,” said Travis. “Will you take them to him for me?”
8. “No, I can’t repent for you,” Mother replied. “You are sorry, and you need to take the toys back yourself.”
9. “I’m afraid to tell Matt the truth. Maybe he’ll be mad at me.”
10. “Maybe he will,” said Mother, “but taking the toys back and telling Matt that you are sorry will take away the bad feeling that you have for your mistake.”
11. “Matt, here are your toys. I’m sorry that I took them without asking,” said Travis. “I won’t do it again.”
12. “I’m glad that you brought them back,” said Matt. “You really are a good friend.”
13. “I’m glad that I told the truth and made things right,” Travis said with a smile.

While in England, Elder Woodruff found this group of people who were looking for the truth. After teaching them for two days, he baptized six hundred of them.

Seven-year-old Adam wanted to be a super hero. He’d seen super heroes on TV, and he’d read a lot of super-hero adventures. He thought that he was qualified for the job. He knew exactly how to thwart bad guys’ plans and stop wrongdoings.
One morning when Adam woke up, he decided that his time to be a super hero had come. He was going to save the day.
“Hurry up,” Mother called. “Breakfast is ready.”
Springing out of bed faster than a flame can flicker, he dressed in an instant, then charged into the kitchen.
“That was fast,” Mother noticed. “You must have big plans for the day.”
“Sort of,” he replied. He didn’t want to say too much. Every seven-year-old knows that super heroes don’t brag.
Adam gulped down his breakfast, his mind awhirl with possible adventures ahead.
Mother’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Oh my,” she sighed. “I almost forgot that I promised to pick a basket of raspberries for Mrs. Evans this morning. Adam, could you clear and wash these breakfast dishes so I can get started?”
At first, Adam was a little annoyed. After all, he had more important things to do. He had to save the day. Oh well, he thought. It’s still early, and the day hasn’t needed saving yet. Besides, if Mrs. Evans was going to make jam with the raspberries, maybe she’d save a jar for him. He liked Mrs. Evans, and Mrs. Evans knew that he liked raspberry jam.
After the dishes were done, Adam practically flew out the front door. He stopped at the end of the driveway and surveyed the neighborhood with his eaglelike vision. It seemed pretty quiet, but every super hero knows well that quiet can be deceiving.
Suddenly the quiet was broken! His little brother, Aaron, was yelling from the front porch. “Adam, Mom wants you to tie my shoes.” Aaron was four and was just learning to tie his shoes.
Adam trudged up the stairs to the front porch and began to tie his younger brother’s shoes. Then a super idea came to him: If I teach Aaron how to tie his own shoes, I won’t have to do it anymore, and I’ll have more time to save the day! He sat patiently with his brother. It was frustrating at first, but pretty soon Aaron’s fingers did just what they were supposed to do. Now Aaron could tie his own shoes.
Helping Aaron tie his shoes had taken longer than Adam had expected. He hoped that he hadn’t been needed for an emergency. He decided to take a walk around the neighborhood, keeping his eyes and ears open for any signs of trouble.
Except for two dogs treeing a cat, he didn’t see anything. He chased the dogs away and coaxed the cat out of the tree. It wasn’t his idea of a super hero’s job, even if the cat seemed happy. Discouraged, he went home.
“Hi,” Mother said. “I was just coming to find you. We need to go to the grocery store and buy a few things for dinner. Go jump in the car.”
Adam brightened a little. Maybe he could save the day at the store. Anxious to get there, he helped Aaron and their younger sister, Jenna, put on their seat belts before he buckled his own. Once inside the store, his eyes scanned the aisles in search of anything amiss.
Adam pushed the cart while Mother loaded it with groceries. With Jenna sitting in it, it was getting harder and harder to push. By the time they got to the checkout stand, he was very tired, but he was sure that all the pushing had made his muscles stronger. A super hero needed to be really strong. But he was disappointed that he hadn’t been needed to save the day.
Once they were home, he helped carry in the groceries and put them away. And while Mother fixed dinner, he set the table. After dinner, he decided he might as well clear it too.
The day was almost over. In just a couple more hours, it would be time for bed, and he hadn’t saved the day yet. He decided to go out on the porch and take one last look around the neighborhood.
Just as he was going out the door, he heard Jenna crying. She was ready for bed and wanted to hear a story. Adam could hear Mother in the other room, helping Aaron get ready for bed. Adam was a good reader, and he figured that reading one story wouldn’t take too long. He settled Jenna in her bed and read her favorite story to her—then another and another. By the time she fell asleep, it was almost time for Adam to get ready for bed. I haven’t done one thing to save the day, he thought. Not one sinister plan has been stopped. No one has needed rescuing. I haven’t saved the day at all.
As he lay in bed, thinking about his wasted day, Mother came to find him. “Adam, you got ready for bed awfully early. Are you feeling all right?”
“Yeah—I guess I’m just tired.”
Mother smiled. “I bet you are—you really saved the day for me today. Thank you.”
“What?” Adam sat upright in his bed. “What did you say?”
“I said that you saved the day for me today. I never could have finished all the things that needed to be done if it weren’t for your help.” And with a quick kiss on his forehead, Mother was gone.
“I saved the day!” Adam whispered excitedly. “I really did it!”
That night Adam the super hero fell asleep thinking of ways he could save the day tomorrow.

Recently I was reading the journal of my great-grandfather Nathaniel Hodges, who was called on a mission to England in 1883. He told of coming to Salt Lake City to be set apart for his mission and attending conference while he was there. Listen to his description of that conference: “Went to meetings in large Tabernacle all day. There were splendid instructions given. The remarks of Joseph F Smith and George Q Cannon and President John Taylor were particularly powerful. I heard some of the oldest inhabitants say they never attended a more powerful and Spiritual Conference.”

When I was a girl of about ten, one summer afternoon a friend and I took blankets and crackers out into the hayfield behind our Idaho home. The hay, in the middle of the summer, was sweet-smelling, lush, and so tall that when we spread our blankets in the middle of the field, we could sit on our blankets and eat crackers with the hay making a wall around us and hiding us from sight. There we were in a world all of our own.
We liked to pick the dandelions that grew large and abundantly there. We split their stems lengthwise—have any of you ever done that?—and submerged the stems in the water of the irrigation ditch. As we watched, the dandelion stems began to curl from the end. We split the stem a little farther, and each piece curled until the entire stem was a fluff of curly fibers.
It was an afternoon of wonder for us. We were there all alone under that bright, blue, clean, warm sky. It seemed as if God had created this day and dandelion stems especially for us to enjoy. I said to my friend, “Don’t you just feel happy inside?”
My friend looked at me and said, “No, I don’t.”
I was shattered by her blunt, almost emotionless statement. “Why?” I exclaimed.
“Because it won’t last,” she said. “You can be happy for a minute, but not for very long. Life just doesn’t make sense to me.”
I wish that day in the green hayfield that I had been able to help my friend. I knew the plan, but I didn’t know that was what she needed to hear. Life would have made sense to her had she known Heavenly Father’s plan. I hope someone taught her. I wish I had been the one.

The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter. New York: Frederick Warne and Company, Inc. Peter Rabbit is exhausted when he disobeys his mother and visits Mr. McGregor’s garden.

It was an unforgettable family home evening with our two little girls, Angélique, age 6, and Béthanie, age 4. My husband and I had both collapsed into our chairs, tired and not knowing where to begin. So our daughters took initiative and turned the family home evening assignment wheel, giving us each a task. My husband’s job was to conduct, Béthanie had music, I had activities, and Angélique was to give the lesson.
Béthanie chose “I Love to See the Temple” (Children’s Songbook, 95), and we sang it together. Papa gave the opening prayer. Then Angélique took the most recent issue of the Liahona and chose an article in the children’s section. She is learning how to read in school, so she read the article to us. The feeling in our home was one of calm. The Spirit testified that what she was reading was true.
We played some games together, and I gave the closing prayer. While I was praying, I couldn’t keep from thanking our Heavenly Father for His Spirit and love and also for having blessed our home with these little spirits. My husband and I know that our responsibility is to care for them and to teach them the gospel. Holding family home evening is part of that sacred responsibility.
Sylvie Poussin, Réunion

They might, however, have been less impressed had they ventured out of the heart of the city into the residential area. For all of its bustle, the little city of 20,000 Saints and gentiles was still a country town. Neat brick or plastered adobe houses set well back in fenced lots lined the streets. Each lot included space for a garden, fruit trees, shrubs, chicken houses, and a barn for a horse and buggy and, in many cases, a cow. Loose livestock wandering the city streets was a chronic nuisance; in the midst of April conference that year, a cow was found prostrate on North Temple Street in the 18th Ward area. After two days, the Deseret News editor reported that “the cow … has gone the way of all cows, at last, but did not go quite far enough to please the good people of that immediate neighborhood. The present state of weather will soon render the carrion a disagreeable source of annoyance and complaint.” (DN, April 10.)

No one seemed to take the matter of bovine intruders too seriously until a cow lumbered in at the front door of a local restaurant and became stuck between the tables, unable to move forward and unwilling to move backward. At this point, the city council passed an ordinance declaring that after June 7, 1880, all cows found running at large would be impounded by the city. (DN, June 4.)

Eventually, this solved the problem, though for a time indignant cow owners simply kept their animals penned until the marshall had made his rounds at night, then turned them loose to forage at will. (DN, June 11.)

When we started talking about the sacrament in Sunday School, I thought I had a good understanding of it from earlier lessons in Primary and seminary and from completing my Personal Progress. But I found out I still had a lot to learn.
My teacher began the lesson by asking a simple question: “How do you keep your covenant to always remember the Savior?” I began to think about how I live each day and if I really always remember my Savior. Was I keeping my baptismal covenant the very best I could?
In class we talked about different things that would help us always remember Jesus Christ. Some of the things included having consistent daily prayer and scripture study, praying for the Spirit, singing hymns, taking time to ponder, writing in a journal, going to the temple, and keeping items around home that remind you of Jesus Christ, such as pictures of Him and of the temple. At the end of the class, we were asked to apply the things we’d discussed and to prepare all week long to take the sacrament the next Sunday.
During the week, I tried more diligently to focus on Jesus Christ. I studied scriptures about the sacrament, and I tried to allow myself quiet time to think about what I’d learned. Before then, I used to listen to popular music during most of my free time, but I decided to take a break and ponder sometimes or listen to hymns instead. I prayed for the Spirit to help me remember my covenant and tried to remember to act as the Savior would. I even took the advice to write in my journal, and at the end of each day I took time to reflect on what I’d done well and what I needed to improve. All week I looked forward to when I could take the sacrament again.
On Sunday, I prepared to go to church in a more reverent manner. I woke up early so I wouldn’t be in a rush to get ready right before I had to leave.
By living the principles from our lesson, I learned more about the sacrament and my baptismal covenant. It increased my testimony of the Savior and of His Atonement. I found that when I strive to remember Jesus Christ, I am much happier. It’s easier for me to deal with trials, because I know that He can help me through anything. I’m grateful for the sacrament and for the opportunity I had to make it a bigger part of my everyday life.

I would like to tell you about the St. Charles Ward and how they friendshipped and nourished Brother Jim Hueston. Jim belonged to another church, but he found it was hard to obtain transportation to attend meetings. No one picked him up. I had the good fortune to meet Jim. A Book of Mormon was given; a commitment was made to read and pray. Our members provided transportation for Jim to come to the St. Charles Ward. The missionaries taught the discussions, and Jim read and prayed.
At Jim’s baptism, he asked me, his bishop, “What do you want me to do?” I took Jim to my office and talked about the Church, teaching him about the priesthood and what the Lord would have him do as a member of the Church. He received the Aaronic Priesthood and was assigned to serve as a home teacher. The elders quorum president assigned a strong, faithful, diligent home teaching companion. Brother Hueston, as the newest member of the St. Charles Ward, made sure that his home teaching was completed. Not only for that first month but for the past 20 years he has completed his home teaching every month. He has served in many different callings, and serving as a stake missionary was one of his favorites.
Ward members wrapped their arms around Brother Hueston and made sure that he was a fellow citizen “with the saints, and of the household of God” (Eph. 2:19). Jim learned to drive and bought himself a car so that he could do his home teaching and any other callings he received. We are not sure if we kept him or he kept us “in the right way” (Moro. 6:4). We know that what President Hinckley is asking us to do now was accomplished then with Brother Hueston.
I talked with Brother Hueston this summer. He told me how he and his home teaching companion were helping a less-active member come back into activity. He said, “She is looking forward to taking the temple preparation class and going to the temple.”

“My friend, a gifted salesman, started to use Sundays for selling. As he became more successful, he lost his testimony. He now belittles ‘foolish’ religious traditions. This has affected his entire family. They aren’t a happy family, but they do have money. He worshiped money, and now he is cursed with it.”

Looking forward to the promised joy can help us get through the challenges. Despite all the challenges Joseph had to face, he received many blessings and experienced true joy throughout his work to bring forth the Book of Mormon. After the Book of Mormon was published, the Church was organized and Joseph’s parents were baptized. On that day, Joseph went to the woods alone and began to weep with happiness. If we continue through our trials with our heads held high, putting our total trust in God, we will also be able to find joy and peace.

Brother Soliai and his family were the only Latter-day Saints in their little village of Nuuuli on Tutuila. On one occasion, he asked Opapo to come bless his children, his house, his property, and his friends. Present on that occasion was a wealthy nonmember widow, Salataima Puailoa, who was deeply troubled because her husband’s family was taking steps to deprive her of the land she had inherited from him. Impressed by the blessings, she requested one herself; but Opapo was reluctant because she was not a member.
She investigated the Church and was baptized, then came to him again and requested the blessing. In it, Opapo promised that she would receive the land without any hindrance from her husband’s relatives and that she would, if she were faithful, be an instrument in the Lord’s hands to further the work of the Church in American Samoa.
In the early 1950’s, that blessing was fulfilled. The Church purchased some of her property and on it built a high school, faculty housing, a large welfare farm, and a stake center.

Only One Woof • Gyp and Sweep were brothers and best friends. And the only time in eight years that Gyp barked was when Sweep won the sheepdog trials.James Herriot5 years and up

Blood! That reminded Johnny of the day the previous week when he was trying to ride his new bike. He had fallen from it onto a sharp rock and cut his knee. Blood had streamed down his leg and onto his pants. Boy, it sure hurt! Johnny thought, pulling up his pant leg. His knee still looked pretty bad, even with a bandage on it.

When I went to Russia as a volunteer English teacher, I knew very little Russian. But as I lived among the Russian people, I began to have the desire to serve them and share the gospel with them. So I started working harder to learn the language.
I started by reading a children’s version of the Book of Mormon in Russian. Armed with a Russian/English dictionary, I struggled through a chapter a day, looking up nearly every word. Then I taught myself to pray in Russian, feeling foolish as the foreign words stumbled off my tongue. Finally, I started learning to bear my testimony. To practice, I would write it in Russian in my journal. It didn’t take long for me to decide that it was hard to learn Russian.
Nearly three months into my stay in Ufa, Russia, another English teacher and I planned a trip to a faraway city called Saratov. We were met at the train station by a wonderful Latter-day Saint family who opened their hearts and their home to us. Our time there was soon over, and we were once again on the train, ready for the 20-hour train ride back to Ufa.
We shared our small compartment with two businessmen who made us a little nervous. They were extremely polite though, so we soon felt safe.
When we were leaving Saratov, the family we had stayed with explained the importance of being an example. They said, “Don’t forget that everyone is watching you. Everyone.” They gave us a few missionary pamphlets and challenged us to give them away before we got home. Dubiously, I eyed the two men across from us. I sighed and decided they probably wouldn’t be interested.
But when I got out my scriptures to read, the men were curious and started asking questions. We gave them the pamphlets, which they read.
Later on the trip I started writing in my journal. The men asked why I wasn’t writing in Russian, so I showed them that I often did. The pages I happened to show them contained my testimony. They asked to read it, and I willingly obliged. They also eagerly started reading the Russian copy of the Book of Mormon I gave to them. As they asked questions, I felt as if the room would burst from the Spirit that filled it. One of the men asked if I could feel in my heart “the fire” that was in his and asked if I knew what it was. In my broken Russian I explained it was the Holy Ghost.
I had him read 3 Nephi 11. As we read of the Savior’s ministry among the people on the American continent, tears came to his eyes. He stopped reading and quietly asked, “Does Jesus Christ love me like He loved those people?”
With tears in my eyes I answered, “Yes, He knows you, and He loves you. That is why He wants you to know the truth about His gospel.” He looked at me for another moment and then dropped his eyes to read further. When we arrived in Ufa, we gave him the missionaries’ phone number.
It took a special 20-hour train ride to teach me that I don’t need to be on a full-time mission to serve the Lord and share the gospel. I don’t know if the little seeds that were planted that night have grown. But I do know that miracles occurred. I was converted, even if those men were not.

What lessons have we learned from our fathers? Years ago, a father asked Elder ElRay L. Christiansen what name he could suggest for his newly acquired boat. Brother Christiansen suggested, “Why not call it The Sabbath Breaker?” I’m confident the would-be sailor pondered whether his pride and joy would be a Sabbath breaker or a Sabbath keeper. Whatever his decision, it no doubt left a lasting impression upon his children.