Gospel Story Finder

Another time a difficulty had developed between members of a branch. “I thought it a very insignificant affair. When we had assembled I opened the meeting with prayer, and then called upon a number of those present to pray; they did so, and the Spirit of God rested upon us. I could perceive that a good feeling existed in the hearts of those who had come to present their grievances, and I told them to bring forward their case. But they said that they had not anything to bring forward. The feelings and spirit they had been in possession of had left them, the Spirit of God had obliterated these feelings out of their hearts, and they knew it was right for them to forgive one another.”

“Will you accept a call to be elders quorum president?” On the surface, the request was simple enough. But for Robert D. Hales, then a graduate student working toward a master of business administration degree at Harvard University, there was no simple answer. In his heart, Robert was willing to accept the call, but he knew that professors discouraged students from any outside activities because of the intensity of the graduate program. He also knew he needed to talk it over with his wife, Mary.
The Hales family lived in an apartment with their two small children. As Robert and Mary discussed the call, they knew it would be extremely difficult for Robert to keep up with his master’s program and to serve as elders quorum president. However, after much prayer and discussion, Mary said, “I’d rather have an active priesthood holder than a man who holds a master’s degree from Harvard. We’ll do them both.” The next day when Robert came home from school, he discovered that Mary had walled off a section of the unfinished basement in their apartment. This small office would give Robert a place to study and help them both serve the Lord.
“I put myself in the Lord’s hands when I made that decision,” says Elder Hales now, nearly 40 years later. “That decision was much harder to make than when, years later, I accepted the call to serve as an Assistant to the Twelve and left my business career behind. Some people may have trouble understanding that, but I believe you really show the Lord who you are and what you are willing to become when you make those hard decisions as a young person.”

As a young woman, she was impressed with the importance of finding a worthy young man to marry and made it a matter of daily prayer and weekly fasting. After high school she attended Brigham Young University on a dance scholarship and met Mark Durham, who was attending the University of Utah. “I immediately recognized his goodness,” she said.
The couple married in June 1974 in the Salt Lake Temple. They have seven children.

The Glendora California Stake youth pulled their handcarts in the San Gabriel mountains near their homes. Almost the entire trek was uphill, so most of the trekkers were glad that the next day was Sunday, a day of REST!

The Nauvoo Bell stands next to the Assembly Hall. The bell hung in the original Nauvoo Temple. When the pioneers left Nauvoo, they pulled the bell in a wagon to Salt Lake. Today, a recording of the bell rings every hour. “I think it is cool that the bell did all of these things so long ago, and now we hear it too,” Kennidy said. “It reminds us of the religious freedom we have.”

My journey of discipleship with Christ started with a longing for connection with a power greater than me. Deep in my heart, I knew the power was there. But I did not know how to make the connection. Subconsciously, I began the search. I often stared in wonder and admiration at the majesty of the night sky with its numberless stars. I marveled at how the numerous forms of life on earth come to be and how each living thing is imbued naturally with intelligence that enables its existence and self-preservation. I noticed that even some plants knew how to entice birds and animals to eat their fruit and others how to crack their pods and release their winged seeds at the time when it was dry—and the wind was strong so as to spread their seeds over new ground and bring forth new trees. My antenna for the things of God was raised and ready to receive.

So, when, seemingly by chance, we met a senior couple missionary who told my wife, Gladys, and me about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—and invited us to join a congregation at their home the following day to see for ourselves—we responded immediately. As I sat in that small congregation of about twenty for the first time, what I heard being taught sounded true and felt good. I wanted it to become a part of my life. I shared these feelings with my wife and learned that she felt the same. We decided we would join the congregation again the following Sunday. We kept on doing so, and it soon became the tradition of our family to be at Church every Sunday. As we participated in the ordinance of the sacrament, I felt, and to this day continue to feel, a deep-seated sense of peace when I remember the Lord’s own words:

“Then Jesus said unto them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in you.
“Whoso eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, hath eternal life; and I will raise him up at the last day.
“For my flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed.
“He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in me, and I in him.
“As the living Father hath sent me, and I live by the Father: so he that eateth me, even he shall live by me” (John 6:53–57).

A couple of years ago I was at my cousin’s birthday party. She had invited two of her other friends to the party, and we were having lots of fun when one of her friends said, “Let’s watch a movie.” We all agreed. Then they said they wanted to watch a PG-13 movie.
I had a sick feeling in my stomach. I wasn’t allowed to watch PG-13 movies, and I knew what I had to do. I’d been baptized and confirmed a member of the Church. I had to stand up for myself. That was really hard because I’m kind of shy.
Finally I said, “I can’t watch PG-13 movies.”
I felt a little better then, but they started making suggestions like, “Just plug your ears.” I wouldn’t do it. Finally my cousin said, “OK, we won’t watch the movie.” I’m glad I listened to the Holy Ghost and obeyed the rules my mom and dad made for me.

Elder David A. Bednar
(48) David A. Bednar’s father asks why priesthood holders don’t do their home teaching.

“Or how about the time we were reading the scriptures,” Dad added, “and you suddenly understood what Jesus Christ was talking about in the parable of the wheat and the tares. That was the Holy Ghost teaching you.”

Nell was so excited she could hardly wait to change her Sunday clothes and run out to tell Dad what she had learned at conference. She didn’t even take time to put on her shoes, but ran barefoot across the dusty yard.
It was June 1899. There had been no rain in southern Utah for more than two years. The streams and even the wells around St. George had dried up. No crops could grow without water, and thousands of cattle had died on the range. Some of the families had already moved, and now Dad was also preparing to leave. Earlier that morning he had decided he was too busy packing the wagon to go to conference, even though President Lorenzo Snow had come all the way from Salt Lake City to talk to the people.
“Dad! Oh, Dad!” Nell called as she ran to him. “You can take our things out of the wagon. We don’t have to leave! In conference today President Snow said if the people will pay their tithing and plant their fields, the rains will come and we’ll have food.”
But Dad didn’t seem to understand. He just shook his head and sat down on the tongue of the wagon, staring out across the barren fields.
Dad had explained again and again that they could not live through another year without rain. There was very little food on their pantry shelves, and all the money that was left was the twenty dollars Grandfather had given to Nell.
Later that evening as Dad was washing up for dinner, Nell overheard him tell Mother they should all be ready to start at six the next morning. “We can make Thomson’s ranch by noon if we do,” he said.
The family sat down to a simple meal. No one spoke. Nell felt so sad she could hardly choke down the food. Finally she swallowed hard and said, “Grandfather once told me a story about how the people were blessed by doing exactly as Brigham Young asked them to do.”
Her father and mother stopped eating to listen as Nell continued, “When I said I wished I had lived then so I could have followed a prophet, Grandfather said that President Snow is our prophet today just like Brigham Young was then and that we should all follow him.”
After Nell finished telling the story, she asked Dad to take her precious twenty dollars. “You can give it to Bishop Thorne,” she explained, “to help bring rain to St. George!”
Early the next morning Nell looked out the window and saw a great cloud of dust blowing at the far end of the field. She dressed quickly and ran out across the dry ground.
When Dad saw her, he stopped the horses and held out his arms. Nell flew into them and he held her close. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said. “I thought you’d never get here in time to help me plow the field and plant our seeds!”
During the hot dry weeks that followed, the people of St. George anxiously scanned the cloudless sky and sadly shook their heads. But neither Nell nor her father were at all surprised when on the second of August it began to rain.

A knowing smile touched his lips. “I bet you’re a Latter-day Saint, aren’t you?” His question sounded like a compliment! “You’re just like Andy Frazier!” He glanced across the parking lot with a far-off look in his eyes. “Andy and I were in the Marines together. The first time I met him was a Sunday morning. We talked and hit it right off. I asked him if he wanted to drive into town and catch a movie. He turned me down. He said that he was headed for church. That’s when I found out that he was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
Mr. Santos turned back to me. “We became good friends. He didn’t drink anything stronger than orange soda. He didn’t cuss. He didn’t smoke.” Mr. Santos smiled at me. “But there were a lot of things he did do. Nobody worked harder than Andy Frazier. And he could shoot!” Mr. Santos wagged his head. “Nobody in the whole battalion could shoot like him. I don’t think there was a better member of the entire Marine Corp. At first some of the guys kidded him about his religion, but he didn’t let it get to him.
“One day we were on parade, marching around the parade field. When we marched, we sang out different cadences. Some of them are pretty funny. Some of them are …” He paused and shook his head. “Well, some of them have some pretty bad words in them. They aren’t the approved cadences, but at times we used them. Well, Andy had complained to the sergeant a number of times, but he just said that Andy needed to toughen up a bit.
“One day we were using a cadence that was downright dirty. Andy broke ranks and headed right to the major, who was off to the side of the field. When I saw him go, I thought, Andy, you’re one dead duck. You’re going to get booted right out of the Marines.”
Mr. Santos smiled at the memory. “He didn’t get thrown out. He saluted the Major and told him that he was a Marine and proud of it but that he had been taught not to use filthy language and didn’t expect to have to use it or listen to it to be a good Marine.” Mr. Santos smiled again. “The major told the sergeant that from then on Andy was to choose the marching cadence. Now that took courage! I’ll never forget Andy Frazier. I think you’re like him.”

Neville (16), Michael (15), and Adrian (12) Ormsby of Australia have been singing together for seven years. The active LDS brothers have appeared in Sydney, Brisbane, and Perth; they have held the number one record spot in their country; and they have received the “Most Easy Listening Vocal Group” award presented by the Australian Commercial Radio Association.
Originally from New Zealand, the Ormsbys moved to Australia four years ago. They signed a recording contract in October 1972 and have since released four singles and one album. All their records have proven good sellers, and the brothers have appeared on almost every major television show in Australia.
One of the highlights of their performing career so far was a royal concert they gave for Prince Charles and Princess Anne in Auckland before an audience of 25,000.

A crack in Claudio D. Zivic’s kayak makes it impossible to control.

Stacie has a new puppy!
She makes sure the puppy has enough to eat.
Stacie takes her puppy for a walk.
There are lots of toys to clean up!
Stacie gives her puppy a drink.
Taking care of a pet is hard work, but Stacie gets the job done!

It’s a bright, sunny morning on June 26, 1999. The green grass at the Indiana State Capitol building is looking a little shabby. A trailer pulls up, and as 14-year-old Ryan Tripp unloads a lawn mower, it becomes obvious this is no ordinary lawn job.
There are green balloons on the lawn in the shape of a big ribbon—the symbol for organ donation—and Ryan is thronged by Indiana state officials and a large crowd. Flashing a smile, he talks from the podium about the importance of people becoming organ donors.
But Ryan didn’t see this as the end of his goal. Throughout his trip he had become increasingly concerned about the 63,500 people in America waiting for organ donors. So, even before he and his dad left Washington, D.C., they formulated a plan to further raise awareness for organ and tissue donation: they would mow every state capitol building lawn in the country, including those in Juneau, Alaska, and Honolulu, Hawaii.
Two summers later, on June 1, 1999, Ryan set out on his second mission. This time he had a lot more company—his mother, his sisters, his brother, his Grandpa and Grandma Tripp, and his Grandpa Meidlinger.
The next 72 days were a whirlwind of state capitol buildings, governors, news reporters, talk-show hosts, and families involved in organ donation. The stories they heard from the many recipients, donors, and donor-hopefuls, buoyed them up at each stop.

When Grandma Came by Jill Paton Walsh Grandma has seen a desert island, a whale in the ocean, polar bears playing, kangaroos hopping. She’s even sailed on the Nile River. But no matter where she’s been, she always comes back and tells Madeleine that nothing she’s seen is “as heaven-and-earthly as you!”

“I myself came down with smallpox, a deadly disease in those days. I was isolated in the granary, which had a stove. Pillows were tied on my hands so that I couldn’t scratch the big pox that covered my body. The Lord blessed me so that today I don’t have any pockmarks. I also had diphtheria, another deadly disease, and the Lord spared my life then too.

When I turned 17, all my friends were gone. They had moved far away, were serving missions, or had just stopped being my friend. Even though I had my family, I still felt alone. I felt I had no support outside of my home, and I couldn’t fit in with others even when I tried.
One day the new missionaries assigned to our ward showed up at our house to introduce themselves. They asked how they could help us. I didn’t care about what they were saying because I was thinking only about how sad and lonely I was. Then the missionaries said they would love my help in teaching some of their lessons. I was surprised! Why would they ask for help from someone who clearly wasn’t in the best emotional state?
I agreed anyway, and I went to some lessons with them. The missionaries not only helped the people they were teaching but were also a good influence on me.
When one of the elders was transferred, I realized my life had been getting better since I started spending time with the missionaries. I had a lot in common with the next elder who came to the area, and I continued to spend time with the missionaries. They encouraged, taught, and supported me. They helped me feel better on difficult days. Despite the language barrier and their busy schedules, the missionaries made an effort to help me. The missionaries helped me realize that I was not alone. Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, were watching over me and helping me through others.
When that new elder left, I thanked him for being an instrument in the hands of the Lord to rescue me. I am grateful he came to that particular mission because he was a blessing to me.
Before this time, I had almost no desire to serve a mission, but as I watched these missionaries, my desire to serve grew. I will leave for my mission soon, and I hope to give my all to the Lord as those missionaries did.

My father and his family were members of another church. But before I was born, my father joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. His parents and the rest of their family remained active in their church, and our family was active in the LDS Church.
I learned about my cousins’ faith by seeing their Sunday activities and how they prayed, and watching them participate in a nativity scene at their church at Christmas. They never came to our Church, but they learned about what we believed by seeing how we kept the Sabbath day holy and had family home evening. I could see how the things that were taught in my home added to what was taught in their home. It strengthened my testimony of the restored gospel.
I learned about the goodness that can be found in people of different faiths. This helped me grow up with a better understanding of other people in the world.

I could hear my family gathering around the breakfast table. I was late again. I forced myself to go down the stairs and take my seat at the table. Of course everyone looked up when I came into the kitchen. My five-year-old brother announced in a loud voice, “Hey! You’re late, Karen!”
I sighed heavily, tried not to grimace, and I bent my head to my plate to eat my waffle. I wished I were somewhere else. I wanted to be part of the in-crowd at school—the bunch of girls and athletes that all school life seemed to revolve around. I especially wanted to be accepted by Amy James* and her friends. I felt tired of my family, and I was especially tired of Dad’s What-If jar.
Dad reached for his What-If jar that sat in the middle of the table and held it up where we could all see the folded slips of paper inside. On each slip was a question. The drill was that after the question was read, each family member told how he or she would react in such a situation. Yesterday’s question had been, “What if you are riding in a car, and your best friend is driving too fast?”
Dad held out the jar for Ben to choose the question of the day. I sighed again. Dad’s What-If questions seemed like predictable situations that would never really happen. I put down my fork and listened to my nine-year-old brother read the question he had drawn.
“What if you are in the bathroom at school, and someone you really want to be friends with asks you to smoke pot?” Ben read.
When Dad called on me to answer it, I thought about it and said, “No, thanks. I choose not to.”
“Don’t forget to smile,” Dad reminded me.
I smiled, but my face felt stiff.
I thought about the What-If question most of the way to school. I was still thinking about it when I entered the lunch room at noon. I looked around for my friends from seminary and set my stuff at their table.
My eyes slid over to the table where Amy James and her friends were clustered together, laughing and talking. These were the girls with the newest clothes who dated the coolest athletes in the school. I wished I were cool like them and could be a part of their group.
“Hey, Karen!” my friend Joanie said as she rapped her knuckles on the table in front of me. “Anybody home?”
“What?” I looked up to see my seminary friends looking at me.
“You’re not tuned in, Karen,” another friend, Spencer, said. “Worried about the calculus test?”
I shook my head and looked once more at Amy’s table, hoping she’d look at me and wave.
“Sorry guys,” I apologized, forcing myself to turn my attention to my friends. “I was thinking of something else.”
After lunch I had one free period to study before the calculus test. Before finding a quiet place to study, I stopped by the bathroom to check my hair. I pushed open the door and heard loud talking and laughing. A faint odor of smoke floated in the air. I stepped up to the nearest mirror and saw Amy James and her friends’ faces reflecting back at me. I wondered why they looked so uneasy when our eyes met. Immediately they stopped talking.
I noticed that Amy had a small marijuana cigarette between her lips. She focused her eyes on me and blew out smoke; then she held out the cigarette towards me.
Time sped like a tape measure closing together with a snap. All at once I understood what was happening. I was being offered a joint by these “cool” girls, the ones I thought I wanted to be friends with. I just stood there, frozen.
“C’mon, Karen,” invited Amy, pushing the joint closer to my face. “Have some.” Amy half-turned to the other girls. “Let’s ask Karen to our party Saturday night!”
Her friend Lisa nodded. “For sure, Karen. You’ll have a great time. My folks have promised not to be home.” The three girls laughed loudly, as if Lisa had said something hilarious.
I finger-combed my hair and carefully picked up my books. I turned to face the girls I had thought were so cool. For a minute a sour taste filled my mouth as I realized how dumb I had been. I couldn’t believe I had ever wanted to hang out with these girls. As I looked at the expectant grins on their faces, hoping to involve me in their smoking, I thought about my friends from seminary who had the same goals I wanted to have.
Then I remembered my answer to that morning’s What-If question. I smiled at Amy and her friends, just like Dad had told me, and then in a breezy, firm tone of voice I said, “No thanks. I choose not to.”
I carefully set one foot in front of the other and exited the bathroom. No one called me back. I stepped into the hall feeling lighter and better and smarter than I had felt in a long time.