Gospel Story Finder

Amanda was quiet on the way home from church. When Mom asked her if something was wrong, Amanda started crying and tried to say, “I don’t want to go to church anymore!” Her words came out all wrong, but Mother understood.
Amanda couldn’t hear very well, so the sounds she made when she talked weren’t always correct. Most of the time it didn’t bother her.
But today had been different; her feelings had been hurt. Even now, she could feel the embarrassment making her cheeks red and her ears ring. There was no way around it—she couldn’t go back to church again.
At home, Amanda told Mom what had happened. She had been asked to say the closing prayer in sharing time. She had gotten nervous. She’d spoken too fast and said “Zesus” instead of “Jesus.” As soon as she said it, Amanda knew it had come out wrong; but worse, everyone else seemed to notice too. Many of the children laughed. Some even teased her afterward and called her a baby. They said they’d never heard of “Zesus” before.
“It’s not fair!” Amanda shouted. “They were mean, and I don’t want to go back.”
“It’s tough being different, isn’t it?” Mom asked as she held Amanda close.
“I’m not just different. They said I’m stupid!”
“Let me ask you something, Amanda: Do you love Jesus?”
Amanda nodded yes.
“Do you believe that our church is His true Church?”
Again, Amanda nodded.
“Do you think Jesus loves you and is happy when you go to His Church?”
Now Amanda wasn’t so sure. “How can it make Jesus happy for me to be laughed at when I go to church?” she asked.
“Jesus doesn’t want you to be unhappy at church, but when you go you learn more about how much He loves you,” Mom said. “You learn how He sees you. Then, you can learn how He sees others.”
Amanda thought about what her mother had said. After she prayed that night, she remembered part of a verse from 1 Samuel that her dad had taught her: “The Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.”*
Amanda knew that Jesus didn’t care about things that seemed different to other people. He walked and talked with people whom others teased and didn’t like. Sometimes even His Apostles didn’t understand, but Jesus taught how to love everyone. He was even nice to people who weren’t nice to Him.
“Is Mom right?” Amanda wondered. “Can I learn to see others the way Jesus sees them?”
All week Amanda practiced remembering how special she was to Jesus and Heavenly Father. She looked for people around her who seemed to have a problem. Instead of thinking about the problem, she tried to think of Jesus and what He would see in that person.
Sometimes it was easy. Other times Amanda couldn’t see much, but when she really tried, she got a warm feeling inside that told her Jesus loved each person. Every time she got that warm feeling she remembered she was loved too.
On Sunday, Amanda went to church with her family. When she saw the children who teased her, she still felt a little angry and hurt. She wasn’t sure if she could find anything that caused them problems, but she wanted to try. As Amanda watched, one boy accidentally tripped and dropped his books. Amanda wanted to join in the laughter of the other children, but suddenly the warm feeling came again. She knew that Jesus loved him and she could too. Amanda handed the boy his scriptures and smiled at him. It was a wonderful feeling.
After church Amanda was quiet again. This time when Mom asked what was wrong, Amanda said, “I was just thinking how good it feels to try to see what Jesus sees.”
“Be that kind of friend and that kind of person who lifts and strengthens others.”Elder Robert D. Hales of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, “Gifts of the Spirit,” Ensign, Feb. 2002, 20.

Even in Russia, where its people have drunk at the well of socialist morality for fifty years, there is an indication of a desire for something more nourishing. In studying religion in Russia today, journalist Paul Wohl states that “socialist morality has been accepted as the official yardstick of good behavior, but whether Soviet man is more harmonious than his predecessor is a moot question. A scientific outlook is there,” says Wohl, “but so is religion. Its comeback,” he says, “is a phenomenon which the ideologists of communism cannot explain and about which they prefer to remain silent.” He states that the move toward religion is primarily sparked by young people.
The writer tells of a simple Russian woman who received the visit of her neighbor, a young engineer-physicist. “I know you are a believer,” said the engineer. “Can you tell me about God? The philosophy of dialectical materialism does not satisfy me. I would like to know the viewpoint of believers.”

We live near the Barranquilla Colombia Temple and visit it every two weeks. It helps us remember the covenants we will make with Heavenly Father.
Puerto Colombia Branch Primary, Colombia

One dry leaf fell.
No one noticed.
It fell very gently
through the cold morning air,
dipping and swirling,
dancing down to the earth.
It just let go,
the tree of its life
and, putting on the most gay of colors,
died.
One dry leaf fell
through the morning air,
and no one noticed.

Q. So the gospel helps you with your composing?
A. Musicians don’t just write notes; we write feelings. And there aren’t any deeper or more spiritual feelings than what is inspired by the gospel. Since I joined the Church after my senior year in high school, everything has become more meaningful to me.
Plus the gospel gives me balance in my life. As important as music is, it’s not the most important thing. Once upon a time, the glitz and glamour of the business got to me, and I started worshipping the wrong things. I began to be depressed all the time and didn’t do a good job in my music. But I went through a reawakening and was able to put things back into perspective.
Q. What caused your reawakening?
A. A number of things, but part of it was my family. I have two daughters, and both were born with spina bifida, which basically means they’re paralyzed from the knees down. When Kristin was born nine years ago, she helped me realize some very important things. She was happy. I became aware that although she’d probably never perform great physical feats, she had everything she needed to be happy in this life and to return to our Heavenly Father. So I asked myself, “What are you doing, Brother Bestor? Why are you going for the fame and fortune of the world? You don’t need all that.”

The club wanted to have a cuss-free week in their city. McKay wrote to the city council, who agreed, and last year, March 3–7 was declared Cuss-Free Week. In March 2009, the county of Los Angeles, home to over 10 million people, is also going have a Cuss-Free Week, with McKay receiving the proclamation.

One day while upset with his younger brother, our nine-year-old loudly complained of his brother’s faults. This had happened many times before, and it had troubled me, but this day I felt inspired to try a more positive approach to solving the problem. I sent my son to his room and told him not to come out until he had written down ten nice things about his younger brother. When he emerged with the list, his attitude had changed. Looking for the positive had crowded out his negative thoughts and feelings.
We have since used this form of discipline frequently and have found it an effective way to maintain an atmosphere of love in our home. And learning early in life to look for a person’s good qualities will make our children happier and better prepared to get along with others in the future.

Hiking into the foothills and onto the mountain east of Manti, Utah, was a favorite activity for me when I was growing up. One crisp fall day when I was about 10 years old, my friend and I decided to go for a hike.
My mother carefully wrapped two peanut butter and jam sandwiches and two pieces of raisin pie in waxed paper and put them and an apple apiece in brown paper bags for us to take for our lunches.
I enjoyed the cool, fresh air and the smell of the fields and orchards as we made our way past the outskirts of town, past one neighbor’s farm, and through another’s apple orchard. The trees were loaded with delicious red apples.
We were each carrying a large burlap sack, as we hoped to find pine nuts. As we took the narrow trail through the sagebrush and into the junipers, we found a piñion pine tree here and there and a few pinecones.
We put the cones, sticky with fresh pine gum, into our burlap sacks, knowing that each hard, green cone held a number of pine nuts locked tightly inside it. I loved pine nuts then; I still do. The Indians liked them, too, but they gathered them for survival. They made a pine nut bread that was half pine nuts and half grasshoppers. I preferred my pine nuts without grasshoppers.
My friend and I climbed higher until we came to a maze of flat, white rocks laid out so that they formed a huge letter M (for “Manti,” the name of our town). This huge letter could be seen from the valley below. We picked out one of the large, flat rocks and sat down on it to rest. Taking our shoes off to cool our feet on the smooth rock, we enjoyed looking down on Manti, out across the fields and valleys, and beyond. There was a soft breeze in the clean, clear air, and we could smell the mixture of sage, juniper, and pine. It felt so good to be alive!
We gathered dry brush and limbs so that we could make a fire to roast some of our pine nuts. We lit the brush, and soon it was blazing quite high—too high!
The flames caught onto one nearby clump of sagebrush, then another and another. It looked as if our little fire would soon spread to the whole mountainside and become a forest fire. We had no water to put out the fire with, so we tried to beat it out with our burlap sacks. But every time we beat at the fire, it seemed to fan out and spread more. In desperation my friend said, “I’ll go for help.” He pulled his shoes on and took off running down the mountain.
I was alone! I went to my knees in prayer. “Father in Heaven, help me put this fire out.” This is all I remember saying. I don’t know what I expected. There was not a cloud in the sky, and it didn’t suddenly start to rain. I didn’t hear a voice telling me what to do, but Heavenly Father did answer my prayer.
Before I’d even gotten off my knees, I was impressed to start throwing dirt on the nearest burning bush, and then on the next one. I threw dirt on another and another until I had encircled the entire fire and had it under control. Soon only smoke was left blowing up on the mountain where the fire had been. I had not heard a voice saying, “Throw dirt on the fire,” but I had felt strongly impressed to do it. In some way Heavenly Father had conveyed that idea to my mind.
I am grateful for the way Heavenly Father answered my prayer. He did not put the fire out. Instead, he allowed me the dignity of putting the fire out, which boosted my self-confidence and helped me realize that I could solve difficult problems with his help.
I learned many important lessons from this experience. The first lesson I learned was to not start a fire next to brush with a breeze blowing. More important, I learned that the prayer of a small boy on a mountain would be heard and answered. I also learned that Heavenly Father will generally not do for us what we can do for ourselves, but will prompt us to use our own intelligence, our own strength, and the materials at hand, such as the dirt under our feet.

I was taking photos during a family vacation when a beautiful melody popped into my mind. I love music and composing, so I quickly hummed the song into my camera to remember and work on it later.
That afternoon, I was looking through the cool photos on my camera. I decided to check how much memory my camera had left. It was 67% full.
I clicked OK, not realizing I had just said OK to reformatting my memory card! In a matter of seconds, all my photos and my recording were erased. I was sad about losing the pictures, but I was especially sad about losing the melody.
I tried telling myself it would be okay, but I was devastated. That night, I prayed that the photos and melody could be retrieved.
After returning from the vacation, I kept tinkering with the camera and most of the pictures finally appeared. I was overjoyed! It felt like a direct answer to my prayers.
However, I was crushed when I couldn’t find the recording of the melody. I kept praying and hoping that the song would come back.
Many weeks later as I was doing chores, a strangely familiar melody came into my head. It was the song! I couldn’t believe it! I quickly recorded it on the piano.
I have no doubt Heavenly Father answered my prayer. It was something so small, but He answered. I know He can bring hope into our lives when all seems lost.
Benjamin G., Utah, USA

“I’ll give you ten bucks to taste a beer tonight,” one boy coaxes.
“Yeah, I’ll add 20 to that,” another prods.
“Come on, you’ve got to at least try it once,” a third boy encourages. “You don’t even know what you’re missing.”
The offers are beginning to grow into a nice sum of money. Everyone is watching.
“I know you know I’m Mormon,” responds Sara Traina, 14, of the Jonesboro Georgia Stake. “I won’t do that.” But the boys persist in a half-serious, half-teasing manner.
What would you do?
...
Remember Sara from the beginning of this story? She was standing up for what she believes in. She never took the guys up on their offers. She politely refused and didn’t go to the party where the alcohol was being served. All her response did was gain her more of their respect. “I stand up for what I know is right the best I can,” Sara says, “and because I’m consistent I’m respected.”

In 1995 President Gordon B. Hinckley said to the women of the Church, “With so much of sophistry that is passed off as truth, with so much of deception concerning standards and values, with so much of allurement and enticement to take on the slow stain of the world, we have felt to warn and forewarn.” He then proceeded to read:
“We, the First Presidency and the Council of the Twelve Apostles of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, solemnly proclaim that marriage between a man and a woman is ordained of God and that the family is central to the Creator’s plan for the eternal destiny of His children. …
“Husband and wife have a solemn responsibility to love and care for each other and for their children. ‘Children are an heritage of the Lord’ (Psalms 127:3). Parents have a sacred duty to rear their children in love and righteousness, to provide for their physical and spiritual needs, to teach them to love and serve one another, to observe the commandments of God and to be law-abiding citizens wherever they live. Husbands and wives—mothers and fathers—will be held accountable before God for the discharge of these obligations.”

There was a time when those in charge of caring for the Sacred Grove decided that the grove should be well groomed. Service projects were then organized to clear the grove of fallen trees and limbs, undergrowth, stumps, and dead leaves. Under this practice, it wasn’t long before the vitality of the grove began to diminish. Tree growth slowed, fewer new trees sprouted, some species of wildflowers and plants began to disappear, and the numbers of birds and other wildlife decreased.

Later, upon recommendation that the grove be left in as natural a state as possible, fallen trees and limbs were left to decompose and enrich the soil. Leaves were left lying where they fell. Visitors were asked to stay on marked pathways so that the grove would be less disturbed and the soil within the grove less compacted. Within just a few years, the grove began to regenerate and renew itself in a remarkable way. Today it flourishes in a nearly pristine state, with lush vegetation and abundant wildlife.

A few years ago, I was teaching a seminary class about the First Vision. As part of the discussion, I spoke about the power of sharing that story in missionary work and why it has always been part of our first lesson since the beginning of organized missionary lesson plans. One of my students raised an objection: “Brother Mathews, I think that as missionaries we should teach the world about Jesus Christ, not about the First Vision.”
On the screen in front of the class was a well-known image of the First Vision painted by Del Parson. I pointed to it and asked my student what he saw. Without really looking up or giving it much thought he said, “I see Joseph Smith. That’s my point. I think as missionaries we should teach about Jesus Christ, not Joseph Smith.”
I patiently asked him to look at it again and tell me what else he saw. More thoughtfully this time, he looked up, stared for a moment, and reflected. I could visibly see when the light turned on in his mind. He said, “I see Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. I think I see your point. The First Vision is not just about Joseph Smith.”

“Even while he was so busy in Hollywood, he asked about the meeting schedules of wards in the area and went to church,” says Jessica.

Today, President Nelson teaches us to follow the covenant path. Temples are being built all over the world. This helps more Church members make covenants with God.

When I returned home I felt much different inside. I was beginning to feel hope and was learning to pray for guidance and forgiveness. True repentance didn’t take place overnight; it took many months before I felt I had been forgiven. I made a decision to start attending church again, the most difficult part of which was finding the courage to actually walk to the doors and go in.
I become overwhelmed as I think of the meaning of the Savior’s Atonement: “Oh, it is wonderful that he should care for me enough to die for me!” (“I Stand All Amazed,” Hymns, number 193). It is also wonderful that two sister missionaries came into my life when they did and shared with me their love and example. I was filled with joy to have one of them be my escort when I finally attended the temple to receive my endowment.
Following years of wandering, I had come home at last.

When I was 17, I was doubting that I would go on a mission. I really had no intention of going because I was focused on other things, like dating, movies, and parties.
As I saw friends who remained true to the gospel and had their minds focused on serving a mission, I had a distinct feeling to get on my knees and ask the Lord for guidance. I asked in sincerity if The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the true Church. I received a confirmation by the gift of the Holy Ghost.
From that day on, I began preparing myself to go on a mission. It was very hard work, but it was worth it. I was able to follow my friends into the mission field, knowing that I was doing what was right.
Now I am on my mission, finding people so they can have the same blessings I have. I know that I couldn’t be in a better place than I am now.

Neither rain nor earthquakes nor dark of night can keep the young women of the Mission Hills Ward, Los Angeles Van Nuys Stake, from achieving their Personal Progress goals. During one recent six-month time block, these girls reached more than 230 goals, with some girls passing off as many as 20 each. Rachel Wheeler, pictured above in the wheelchair, was able to finish 34 goals. The girls received special recognition at their annual New Beginnings program.

Zulma sat on one of the church benches and smoothed the skirt of her school uniform. Colored light shone through the stained-glass windows, and a cross stood at the front of the chapel. Zulma went to a church school, so she went to worship services twice a day with the other students. Zulma liked her church. She loved Jesus and loved to learn about Him.
She sat quietly as the priest began to talk. But today something felt different. Suddenly a new thought came into her mind and heart: There is more truth out there.
Zulma scrunched her eyebrows. More truth? What did that mean?
The thought came again. There is more truth.
Zulma closed her eyes and focused on what she was feeling. She had learned lots of good things at church. But now she wondered if something was missing. Maybe there was more that God wanted her to know. But how could she find it?
Later she talked to her older brother, Alberto, about her thoughts.
“You think there’s more truth out there?” Alberto asked.
Zulma nodded. “I want to learn about other churches,” she said.
“OK,” Alberto replied. “I’ll go with you!”
For several years, Zulma and Alberto visited different churches. After one church service, Alberto said, “That church taught good things.”
Zulma agreed, but they still felt like something was missing, so they kept searching.
One day Alberto raced up the steps to their house. “I found the church we’re looking for!” Alberto said. He gave Zulma a big hug.
Zulma’s eyes got wide. “Where? How?”
“My friend met some missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,” Alberto said. “I listened to them, and I believe what they taught!”
Zulma and Alberto were so happy that they danced all around the house. But then Zulma got some bad news. Mamá didn’t want her to meet with the missionaries. “You’re only 12,” Mamá said. “You’re too young.”
Since Alberto was older, he was allowed to keep meeting with the missionaries. A few weeks later, he was baptized.
Zulma kept asking Mamá again and again if she could learn from the missionaries. Finally, Mamá said yes.
When the missionaries taught Zulma, she felt warm in her heart. One of the missionaries had a hard time speaking Spanish, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was how good Zulma felt. When she learned about Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon, she knew she had found the truth she was looking for!
Zulma wanted to be baptized. But what would Mamá say? Zulma was so happy when Mamá said yes! On the day of her baptism, Zulma dressed all in white. She knew God loved her. She knew He knew her. And she knew that He had helped her find His restored Church!

June 7. Billy’s mother called me and asked if I wanted to come over and have dinner with them tonight. Billy was too shy to ask, she said, and wanted her to ask me. (Mom and Dad said it would be fine.) She also said that Billy can’t stop talking about me, that the past few weeks he’s been happier than she can ever remember. “He thinks the world of you,” she said, and she thanked me for being so good to him.
I could tell that she was crying, because her voice started breaking up. I told her that it was easy to like Billy because he was so good. I didn’t tell her, but I had been starting to feel happier inside myself than I had in a long time, and I was already happy. Dad says, “When we open our hearts to others, like Jesus did, we feel a whole different kind of joy.”