Gospel Story Finder

Every day, Paola listens to a CD of Primary songs and has learned several songs. She really likes “Follow the Prophet.” She also likes to read Book of Mormon Stories with her mom. Recently she visited some of her relatives and told them the story of Ammon and the Lamanites.
Paola C., age 3, Oaxaca, Mexico

When Casey Christopherson graduated from Primary, he had already earned the 24 merit badges required for an Eagle award. Since that time he has kept his enthusiasm for the Scouting program, earning an additional 29 merit badges. Casey also has earned his bronze and gold palms, is working on his silver palm, was awarded a World Conservation Award, received his On My Honor award, and became a member of the Order of the Arrow. Presently he is the second counselor in the teachers quorum of the Spanish Fork 13th Ward, Spanish Fork Utah Stake.

As a new convert I had the opportunity to perform some baptisms for my ancestors. As I stood in the water to perform this sacred ordinance, I had a strong feeling that baptism for the dead is divine. Since then I have been able to build my testimony of baptisms for the dead. In my understanding, testimony is defined as divine revelation to the person of faith. To gain a testimony, we must pray, study our scriptures, and obey the teachings of Jesus Christ. At the root of every testimony must be a righteous life; otherwise, the Spirit cannot bear witness of the work of the Lord in our day.
Mariam N., 19, Accra, Ghana

It is painful to imagine a shepherd feeding himself and letting the sheep go hungry. Yet I have seen many shepherds who feed their flocks. One was the president of a deacons quorum. One of his quorum members lived near my home. That neighbor boy had never attended a quorum meeting nor done anything with the members of his quorum. His stepfather was not a member, and his mother did not attend church.
The presidency of his deacons quorum met in council one Sunday morning. Each week they were fed the good word of God by the fine adviser and teacher. In their presidency meeting, those 13-year-old shepherds remembered the boy who never came. They talked about how much he needed what they received. The president assigned his counselor to go after that wandering sheep.
I knew the counselor, and I knew he was shy, and I knew the difficulty of the assignment, so I watched with wonder through my front window as the counselor trudged by my house, going up the road to the home of the boy who never came to church. The shepherd had his hands in his pockets. His eyes were on the ground. He walked slowly, the way you would if you weren’t sure you wanted to get where you were headed. In 20 minutes or so, he came back down the road with the lost deacon walking by his side. That scene was repeated for a few more Sundays. Then the boy who had been lost and was found moved away.
Now, that story seems unremarkable. It was just three boys sitting in a room around a small table. Then it was a boy walking up a road and coming back with another boy. But years later, I was in a stake conference, a continent away from the room in which that presidency had met in council. A gray-haired man came up to me and said quietly, “My grandson lived in your ward years ago.” With tenderness, he told me of that boy’s life. And then he asked if I could find that deacon who walked slowly up that road. And he wondered if I could thank him and tell him that his grandson, now grown to be a man, still remembered.
He remembered because in those few weeks he had been, for the first time in his life that he recognized, watched over by the shepherds of Israel. He had been warned by hearing eternal truth from people who cared about him. He had been offered the bread of life. And young shepherds had been true to their trust from the Lord.

On May 18, 2020, my beloved dad, my hero, died from COVID-19. His death came so suddenly that we were not prepared. He was only 61 years old. I learned that just as God respects agency, we must respect God’s timing. That’s why I am grateful for His promise, taught by the prophet Alma, “that the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body, yea, the spirits of all men, whether they be good or evil, are taken home to that God who gave them life” (Alma 40:11). All men and women!

Dr. Weaver first got the idea for the annual workshop while watching a group of hearing young people pull each other through a mud puddle in a tug-of-war. “They were on campus for a priesthood-sponsored youth conference and seemed to be having a world of fun. I was not surprised to find that there were no deaf youth among the group—there seldom are. The idea suddenly hit me—why not have a workshop just for deaf youth, where young deaf people could communicate with each other in their own language? In addition to social and recreational experiences, why not plan sessions that can be taught by leaders in the various fields?”

“People ask me all the time why I get up so early just to read scriptures,” says Lance Flesch, a priest who wrestles, plays football, and runs track. He lets them know that being a member of the Church is a privilege with lots of benefits. Good physical health and a clear mind are just two of them. Lance says that going to seminary and holding fast to gospel standards “helps remind me to be in the world but not of the world. Having the Spirit helps me to set an example. I constantly have a companion encouraging me to walk the higher road.”

My sister and I had the day off from school. We were trying to find something to do. We each wanted to play a different game. My sister usually lets me play the game I want, so I played her game with her because I love her. I know Jesus would want us to play fair and show our love to others, even when it’s something we don’t really want to do.

The Ryer family of the East Coast Bays Ward also appreciates the temple day care. With six children, Alby and Lisa Ryer have not been able to attend the temple together in 12 years. Thanks to the hard work of the youth in their stake, things have changed.

“We used to try to take the children to the temple with us and take turns attending the sessions, but everybody would be tired and grumpy afterward. Now, we go to the temple together, and while we travel home, the kids are all nice and happy and telling us about their temple experiences,” says Sister Ryer.

In Vesaru—an agricultural area outside of Ba—Jovesa Nausa lives on a ten-acre cane farm. He is an elder in the Ba Branch and teaches the Gospel Doctrine class. “I used to harvest plenty of cane from my farm—250 to 270 tons,” he says. “But I wasn’t happy. Now I belong to the Church, so I don’t worry about money anymore. I believe God is with us and is helping us. Even though I harvested less cane last year, I am happy.”

When I was 10 years old, my mother died, leaving five children. I grieved over her death, but it was even more painful to watch as my brothers and sisters and I were split up. No one wanted to take all five of us, so each set of grandparents took two children, and my father’s sister took my youngest brother, Orlando. Because of my rebelliousness, I was eventually sent to a school for orphans, where I grew up sad, alone, and bitter.

It was a warm summer morning as Josh followed his dad into the hardware store. Outside, bees hummed and sprinklers hissed, but inside everything was cool and quiet. Josh stood at the window and watched a bee bump against the glass.
Then something on a shelf caught his eye—a pocketknife gleaming in the sunlight near the window. Josh was sure he could use a knife like that for all sorts of things. But he didn’t ask Dad if he could buy it. He already knew what Dad would say: “You should wait until you’re a Boy Scout to get a pocketknife.” Josh didn’t want to wait until then. He wanted a pocketknife right now.
Josh looked over his shoulder. Dad was busy paying the cashier for some work gloves. Josh snatched the knife and put it in his pocket.
“Ready to go?” Dad asked.
Josh followed Dad to the car, his heart thumping like the bee against the window. As they drove away, Josh smiled. No one had noticed! The knife was his.
So why did it feel like a heavy rock in his pocket?
By the time Josh got home, he felt like he had a rock in his stomach too. Josh went to his room and took out the knife. It didn’t seem to gleam anymore. Josh tried to imagine what kinds of things he’d use it for, but he couldn’t think of any. Besides, if he took the knife out of his room, Dad might see it.
Josh felt anxious all day. The knife’s weight in his pocket kept reminding him of the wrong choice he had made. He had to get rid of it.
“Can I ride my bike?” he asked Mom.
“Yes, just be home in time for dinner,” Mom said.
Josh hurried to get his bicycle from the garage and pedaled onto the sidewalk.
“Hey, Josh! Where are you going?” Josh’s brother Tanner called from his friend Chris’s yard.
Josh didn’t slow down. He raced to the end of the street, where a brick wall was built into a hillside. Josh found a crack between the bricks and stuffed the pocketknife into the dark hole. No one would know what he’d done. Now he could forget about it too.
A few hours later, Tanner and Chris burst into the house. “Look what we found!” Tanner held up the pocketknife.
Josh tried not to look guilty. “Where did you get that?” he asked.
“We followed a bee,” Tanner said.
“You followed a bee?” Mom repeated.
“We were bored,” Tanner said. “We chased the bee to the end of the street. It crawled into a hole in the brick wall, and that’s where the pocketknife was.”
Josh felt sick. Even though he’d hidden the knife, Heavenly Father knew where it was. He went to his room and counted the dollar bills in his wallet. Then he prayed for the courage to tell the truth. When he got up from his knees, the anxiousness in his mind quieted. He felt a little nervous about telling his parents and the cashier at the hardware store what he had done, but he felt lighter than he had all day—like a bee zipping over the rooftops toward home.

Cameron S., 11, Texas, received an award from his swimming coach for working hard and being respectful to the coaches. In Primary, Cameron is reverent and willing to serve. Cameron’s Primary president sent his picture to the Friend. She is proud of him for being an excellent example to people in his community.

Grandma’s Garden by Elaine Moore Kim helped her young grandmother plant a garden. Then a thunderstorm not only woke them up but destroyed the garden. Kim and Grandma fly a kite while the wind dries the ground; then they plant the garden again. Wonderful, realistic art.

Entering Roosevelt Junior High School in Salt Lake City required some important decisions for me. One September day I was confronted with new choices! What subjects to take? Thus far my schooling had been prescribed. We had gone at 9:00 A.M. and followed through the day with what was presented in our homeroom. Now we were to change classes each period, going from room to room. Should I take Algebra A and B, or a course called Mathematics? Or, something called General Science? English, physical education, and some selections were prescribed. But there was remarkable latitude in other choices. I could take U.S. History, or something called Civics. I could elect to study Spanish, Latin, or French. Some of us had the benefit of prior consultation with our parents. In line with their counsel, I was left with the choices I have indicated.
I also discussed my choices with two classmates. One was the son of a University of Utah professor of history. The other was a future doctor of medicine, whose older brothers had already attended the University of Utah and had gone through “the mill.” Both were wise young men. I benefited by discussion with them. After a few hours, I made my choices: Algebra A with Miss Cora D. Patterson, continuing the second semester with Algebra B, the binomial theorem, factoring, and other algebraic systems. I elected Spanish, a modern language, with Miss Grace Hogan as teacher. Assignments to stake conferences in Mexico and Latin-America have been assisted by that choice. Third period found me in U.S. History, a subject I dearly loved, with Miss M. Hulbert. Then came the luncheon break. Period four was physical education, under E. V. Howell. Period five in English brought Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar with Mrs. Jessie Hutchinson. Sixth period I elected music. I found my way to the room where Mrs. Matilda W. Cahoon presided.
This challenge of choices continued throughout high school and the university years following. The same process of consultation with parents and fellow students, prayer, study, and working it out in my own mind, produced the selections. In later years it was a great blessing to have elected in the ninth grade to study geometry, under Miss Snyder, and especially Ancient History under an excellent teacher, Miss Welthea M. Learned. I learned much of the history of the classical Middle East, Greece, and Rome and became acquainted with architectural and art forms that have enriched my life.

“When Mom and Dad were first married they lived on a farm. One day Dad knew an orphan pig would die if he didn’t keep it warm and feed it himself. So he brought the pig inside and put it in the oven. He didn’t turn on the oven but thought the pig would be comfortable there for a while. He didn’t think to tell anyone what he’d done and my mother, not knowing about the pig being there, came into the kitchen and turned on the oven to bake something. Needless to say, an unintentionally roasted pig at our house that day caused quite a problem.”

Once I found a $20 bill at school. Even though I would have liked to spend it, I decided that it would be best to take it to the office. No one had reported that they had lost it, but I knew that I had made the right choice.
Janelle M., age 7, Illinois, USA

But Jacob and Jeff both were born with an intellectual disability—not so extensive that they can’t be helpful and involved, but enough that full-time missionary service isn’t possible for them.
Still, they wanted to serve. What to do?
Robert Chambers, who was their bishop in the Indian Hills Ward at the time, explains what happened. “Everybody loved Jacob. His priesthood leaders and his quorum, as well as his family, were always interested in providing him with opportunities that were similar in nature to the other boys in the quorum. About the time he was ordained a priest, we started talking with his mom and dad and his priesthood leaders, looking forward to the time when the young men in the quorum would be going on missions. We wanted to find an alternative way for him to give service, too.
Jacob and Jeff’s father, Dan, continues. “We went to see the bishop to ask about alternatives to missionary service. We found out it was already on his mind, and he was working on it.”
When he turned 19, Jacob was called to serve with the ward mission leader, teaching each soon-to-be eight-year-old child in the stake a class about preparing for baptism and confirmation. He was told that part of his service was to study his scriptures regularly. He was also called to serve as an usher at sacrament meetings. Jacob served so faithfully that his calling was extended. He is still serving.
The young men are enthusiastic about their callings and greet everyone they meet with a handshake and a smile. In return, they are greeted with friendship and kindness. Everybody in their home ward, as well as in the Riverside Singles Branch, which meets in the same building—in fact, just about everybody in the stake—recognizes the Balls brothers and knows about their special assignments. Lots of children in the stake remember Jacob as one of the special teachers who helped them learn about baptism and confirmation. And every Wednesday, Jeff’s mother Denise makes the one-hour drive to the temple so Jeff can spend the afternoon working in the cafeteria.

May 12. At school today some children were being mean to Billy. They were calling him names and saying unkind things. Especially Cory and Timmy. It’s because Billy is, well, different. Mom says he’s “mentally challenged.” He has a harder time learning than most children his age. But he can still go to the same school as everyone else. The teachers just help him a little more.
Anyway, I remembered what Dad had taught in family home evening, so I sat with Billy at lunch today and shared my sandwich with him. His sandwich and potato chips were soaked. Cory and Timmy had filled his lunch box full of water, then laughed and said, “We’re doing you a favor, Billy. We know you have a hard time doing things. Your lunch should go down real easy—you won’t have to chew it at all!”

Elder Bruce R. McConkie eloquently described the type of reawakening Stan experienced: “Here is a man who gains a copy of this blessed book, begins to read it, and continues … until, having read it all, his famished soul is filled with the bread of life. He cannot lay it aside or ignore its teachings. It is as though the waters of life are flowing into the barren deserts of his soul, quenching the arid, empty feeling that theretofore separated him from his God.”