Gospel Story Finder

Growing up in southern Utah, some of us sought employment at the many gasoline service stations that lined old Highway 91 as it made its way through downtown St. George. My younger brother Paul, then 18, worked at Tom’s Service, a station located about three blocks from our home.
One summer day, a car with New York license plates pulled in the station and asked for a fill-up. (For you brethren under the age of 30, in those days someone actually came out and filled your car with gas, washed your windows, and checked your oil.) While Paul was washing the windshield, the driver asked him how far it was to the Grand Canyon. Paul replied that it was 170 miles.
“I’ve waited all my life to see the Grand Canyon,” the man exclaimed. “What’s it like out there?”
“I don’t know,” Paul answered. “I’ve never been there.”
“You mean to tell me,” the man responded, “that you live two and a half hours from one of the seven wonders of the world and you’ve never been there!”
“That’s right,” Paul said.
After a moment, the man replied, “Well, I guess I can understand that. My wife and I have lived in Manhattan for over 20 years, and we’ve never visited the Statue of Liberty.”
“I’ve been there,” Paul said.

Brother Carlstrom, in his daily journal, narrates the contentment he reveled in one evening: “We made camp. Some of us wanted to sleep on the beach, but after a while we were forced to higher ground by the unusually high tide. … The day’s end caught most of us watching the beauty of the coast as wild fowl flew … before us. As the sun sank … , it filled the sky with all shades of reds and oranges, with slight traces of pink. … It was replaced by the moon, almost full, as it came over the mountains in back of us, painting the ocean’s surface with flickering light. It was soon joined by other heavenly bodies and God’s handiwork was displayed before us. We had just received our compensation for an afternoon of hard, uphill riding, and we all were thankful.”

Illustrations by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
Look at that! It’s gorgeous! It’s glowing like a lightbulb.
This dye is amazing. It turns ordinary eggs into magnificent, marvelous Easter eggs.
That’s kind of what Easter does for us.
At Easter we celebrate Jesus Christ’s Atonement for our sins. Every time we repent, we become more magnificent and marvelous and more like Heavenly Father.
And every time we do good things, we become more like Him!
Let’s give Easter eggs to some of our older neighbors.
That’s a great idea!

Have you ever heard the old saying that people who get lost tend to walk in circles?
Jan L. Souman, a German psychologist, wanted to determine scientifically if this was true. He took participants of an experiment to a large forest area and to the Sahara desert and used a global positioning system to track where they went. They had no compass or any other device. Instructions to them were simple: walk in a straight line in the direction indicated.
Dr. Souman later described what happened. “[Some] of them walked on a cloudy day, with the sun hidden behind the clouds [and with no reference points in view]. … [They] all walked in circles, with [several] of them repeatedly crossing their own path without noticing it.” Other participants walked while the sun was shining, with faraway reference points in view. “These … followed an almost perfectly straight course.”1
This study has been repeated by others with different methodologies.2 All returned similar results.

Everyone carries painful memories of being scolded by a parent or a teacher for not trying to learn. I can still hear in my mind a German teacher, short enough to look me in the eye as she stood at my desk, saying, “Du bist ein —————,” which translated means that she thought I was a donkey for not learning and that some day I would be sorry. Indeed, I am sorry. And I’m sorry for a hundred other times and places I was slow or unable to learn. But more than the regret I feel for choosing not to learn from a German teacher and a piano teacher and so many others, my heart aches for the days—even months and years—when the Master would have taught me how to use faith and repentance and the Holy Ghost and charity, but could not get my attention.

That same message was recently sent by two other archaeologists working in South America who discovered plants that were “not supposed to be there.” Terence Grieder and Alberto Bueno Mendoza reported finding remains of mango fruit and banana leaves in a pre-Columbian site in Peru. Another archaeologist argued in print that they “couldn’t have found” such materials, for those plants did not reach the New World until the Europeans brought them. The excavators’ response confirmed their findings and noted with a bit of exasperation, “If we can only find what is already known, we can avoid the bother of excavating.”14 One wonders what new materials we might find if the sample of excavated materials rose to even double what it now is.

“I’ve only entered one art contest,” Allan says, “because I don’t think of art as being competitive—it’s more a self-expression.” What he doesn’t tell you without a lot of coaxing is that as a junior high school student in a high school contest he won an honorable mention. The prize was for ceramics.

This teaching may seem a paradox. After all, isn’t getting more of the things you want the way to be happy? The youth of the São Paulo Brazil Santo Amaro Stake know better. Two weeks before their youth conference, they began collecting food, toys, and clothing—loving gifts for the children of a state orphanage. The donations came not just from members of the Church, but from other neighbors, too.
“I learned that we must love one another and not just ourselves. I also learned that everyone needs to live in harmony. I believe we should help those who need help like the mentally ill, the homeless, and the orphaned.”
Carlos dos Santos Souza, Diadema Second Ward
On Saturday, the conference opened with a day of soccer, volleyball, other sports, and a roadshow. But on Sunday, the two hundred young members of the Santo Amaro Stake turned to serving their brothers and sisters. They wrote more than a hundred letters to full-time missionaries from their stake. Sixteen of the priests teamed up with full-time missionaries for some missionary work. And others went to the homes of 120 young people who had not been taking part in Church activities, inviting them to join with them in the youth conference. Several accepted the invitation to hear Elder Helio da Rocha Camargo of the Second Quorum of the Seventy speak at the fireside that evening. Some took part in activities the next day.
On Monday, the youth turned their efforts to the community—specifically, to Guarapiranga Park, a large park within the stake boundaries. Painting roadside curbs, picnic tables, and fences, the group drew attention from many of the thousands of people who were at the park. Some of those who noticed the group joined them for a picnic lunch and found out more about the Church. The park administrators said they had never seen such an act of service, and city officials expressed their gratitude for all the youth had accomplished.
“Although people in general are cheerful, they don’t realized what true happiness is all about. Happiness is not something you receive, but something you give.”
Simone, Jabaquara Ward
But hearts were touched most deeply when the two hundred young people visited the state orphanage on Tuesday. With them they took the goods they had collected during the previous weeks. But they also took gifts the children needed even more: love and attention. Visiting with the four hundred orphans—from newborn to age six—they changed diapers, told stories, and sang Primary songs. They took children to the playground and simply talked with them. When the time came to leave, there were many tears. With hearts overflowing, the youth of the Santo Amaro Stake found that even a three-hour-long testimony meeting was just too short to express their feelings. They had served, they had loved, they had felt joy. And they wanted to have this kind of youth conference every year.

Some time ago a dating relationship with someone I cared a great deal about ended. Already anxious about being unmarried, I doubted whether I could find another person with whom I was as compatible.
Not long after, I was reminded of the story of Abraham being commanded to sacrifice Isaac (see Genesis 22:1–14). I realized that both of us were asked to give up someone we loved. Of course, my experience pales in comparison to Abraham’s, but I discovered that his experience taught patterns I could follow.
Knowing that—but not necessarily how—God would keep His promises, Abraham was obedient. His love for his son was great, but his response showed that he loved the Lord above all else. We are asked to demonstrate the same thing (see D&C 101:4–5), and we too have the promise of great reward upon our faithful endurance (see Matthew 24:13). When my relationship ended, it was difficult to move on. Having received the promise that I will marry, moving on seemed to be unaligned with the fulfillment of that promise. But the promise gave me hope, which helped me to try again and to show Heavenly Father that I love Him above all else.

Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin’s article, “Come What May, and Love It,” in the November 2008 Liahona (p. 26), lent spiritual help to our daughter, who recently went through a difficult ordeal. During her pregnancy, the doctors gave her a grim diagnosis—our grandchild would not survive.
Daily family and personal prayer along with that article gave us hope, and a miracle happened in our family: our grandson was born. He had to stay in the hospital for a while, but a month later the doctors did not confirm the previous diagnosis.
Gennadji and Tatjana Mitchenko, Russia

The article “CTR Rings in the Principal’s Office” (Mar. 2007), which tells of a girl who told her school principal about the Church when the principal asked about the girl’s CTR ring, inspired my five-year-old son and other Primary children in our branch to always wear their CTR rings.
My son and another child had their first missionary experience when their schoolteachers asked about the rings and the children were able to tell them about the Church.
Aleksey Dobrovolskyy, Ukraine

On the following day, June 29, the bodies lay in state in the Mansion House while thousands of Saints silently filed past the coffins, grateful but sobered to see their beloved leaders one last time. Mary Ann Phelps’s father took her to the Mansion House early in the morning, before the bodies were prepared for the public viewing.

“I went down, saw them, and laid my hand on Joseph’s forehead,” she said. “The sheet that was around him was stained with blood. Still he looked very natural.”7

When I was a boy in Primary, I believed, without questioning, whatever my Primary teacher told me. One summer day she taught us about prayer: “Remember, if you need Heavenly Father’s help, just ask Him. He’ll always answer.” I skipped home thinking of nothing more than playing baseball with my brothers. I didn’t know that the next day I would test my teacher’s words.
The following morning began, as mornings so often do in St. George, Utah, with the sun scorching the sandstone cliffs and lava rock hills that circle the town. Into the warmth of that perfect day my friend Cindy and I started off on one of our adventures. Clutching an arsenal of small, sharp hooks, two spools of thread, peanut-butter sandwiches, and cupcakes, we scurried toward the fishing hole. The distance wasn’t far, but to our small feet it seemed a long way.
Finally we reached the pond, the clear water reflecting the unspotted sky on its shimmering surface. Tall, tangled trees, each trying to reach the light, surrounded it, and a small island clung close to one side. We imagined that Peter Pan lived there, hiding from Captain Hook, whose ship lay harbored somewhere in the maze of trees and reeds.
Each adventurous step we took through the bushes sent a crowd of colored insects into flight. At last we came to the cement-encased headgate covered with brown and orange rust. We paused there and looked at the pond and the willows surrounding it, feeling as though the Amazon lay before us and that we had come to bury stolen treasure.
We sat down, slipped off our shoes, and dangled our dusty feet lazily in the cool water. Tying our thread to the hooks, we anticipated the prize fish that we would catch. Then we realized that we had brought nothing to use for bait! It was unthinkable to use any part of our lunches, so the homemade lines just hung loosely in the water, our excitement sinking as rapidly as the bare hooks.
The fishing having been frustrating, we soon found something new to occupy the morning. Close to the pond, and right next to a red sandstone mesa, was a sand hill. One side of the hill slanted smoothly upward, but the other side stopped partway down, forming a cliff as high as a house. At the base of the cliff was a rubble of rough sandstone. Off we ran, the world’s greatest mountain climbers, courageously tackling the tallest mountain.
As we reached the hill, we could see an old cedar post on top, peeled of its bark by years of service as part of an extinct fence.
“Race you to the post on the top!” I shouted.
Up the hill we scampered, sinking at times into the soft, warm sand. Small avalanches trailed behind us and could be heard falling on the rocks beneath the cliff. Soon I was on all fours, rushing toward the fence post like a dog chasing a stick—but unaware that I was ascending alone. I reached the top, exhilarated by my victory, and whirled around with a grin to face my opponent. But she wasn’t right behind me! She had run into deep sand and, unable to lift her feet, had panicked and started flailing around—sliding backward toward the edge of the cliff.
Her soiled face was a picture of fear, and her eyes could open no wider. Clean, tear-washed streaks streamed down her sunburned cheeks. I yelled at her to turn around and go down the hill the other way. Her only response was a sobbing “Help me!” But we both knew that if I went straight down to her, the sand moving before me would push her over the edge. Desperate, she cried out again, “Help me!”
I remembered my Primary teacher’s words from the day before, and I prayed fervently. Miraculously, Cindy stopped sliding. Something beneath her small feet stopped her. I went down a different way, inched cautiously to where she was, and helped her turn around. When she was on safe footing, I reached down to where she had stopped sliding and picked up a rock no larger than the whetstone my father used to sharpen my Cub Scout knife! Somehow that bit of stone had prevented a tragedy. I slipped it into my pocket, and we headed home. We had had enough adventure for one day.
Later I placed the rock on a shelf in my room to remind me of my wise Primary teacher’s words: “If you need Heavenly Father’s help, just ask Him. He’ll always answer.”
Now, years later, I still find courage in that saving scrap of sandstone.

I really like science and math. I also play the organ and piano and I like to draw with charcoal. I’m a Nordic ski jumper. I’ve been doing it since I was nine—so about seven years now. I used to train for freestyle skiing right next to a Nordic jump. I thought that the jump looked really fun. So, I asked my mom if I could try it. I really liked it from the day I started. Now I’m on the USA Nordic Women’s Junior National Team. As soon as you jump, it’s like flying!

Years ago, while we were on an assignment together, Elder L. Tom Perry shared how he and his companion regularly ministered to a sister who lived alone in a rough Boston neighborhood. When Elder Perry and his companion arrived, the sister cautiously directed, “Slide your temple recommends under the door.” Only after seeing the temple recommends would she unbolt multiple locks and open the door. Of course, I am not saying ministering companionships need temple recommends. But I love the thought that as those who honor covenants minister, homes unlock and hearts open.

One day, while waiting her turn at the dentist’s office, Heidi felt impressed to give a copy of the Book of Mormon, with her picture and testimony inside, to a neighbor lady who was also waiting. “You can have this,” Heidi said, handing the woman the book. “It’s a true book, and ours is the true church.”
The spirit of truth worked quickly. The next day the neighbor lady, Lajla Pedersen, phoned and asked if she could go to church with the Pedersens the next Sunday. Soon Lajla and her husband, Jan, were converted to the Church. Within weeks he was baptized, ordained a priest, and, with much jubilation, was able to baptize his wife, his daughter, Lisabeth, and his son, Kim.

There weren’t any strings attached—and this was one case where they could have been. Members and missionaries of the Yamagata (Japan) Branch staged a puppet show centered on the Book of Mormon.
The missionaries suggested the subject, and the members put together the script. Everyone wanted to get into the show, so the Relief Society sisters made the hand puppets and the brethren built the stage and props for the presentation. Lighting and other technical areas were handled by members also. The missionaries provided the willing hands for the puppets. Members and nonmembers were invited, and after the show, questions were answered and basic gospel principles were explained.
Working in the Japan Sendai Mission, the Yamagata elders have contacted investigators in department stores, while singing in neighborhoods, and on a local radio station. The missionaries credit “an enthusiastic attitude” with their success. “By everyone working together we can truly feel the love of the gospel,” said one elder.

For Tanner, Easter would not be the same this year. His grandpa had died, and Tanner was sad he would never share this special time with him again.
But during Primary, Tanner was reminded that the reason we celebrate Easter is because Jesus lives! When He was resurrected, His spirit was forever reunited with His body, never to experience death again. Tanner learned that because Jesus was resurrected, everyone would be resurrected someday, including his grandpa!
An Easter song filled Tanner with happiness as he sang: “Jesus has risen, Jesus, our friend. Joy fills our hearts; He lives again.”* Tanner wanted to share this good news with everyone. He decided that before Easter, he would place on his neighbors’ doorsteps small bundles of spring flowers with scriptures about Jesus’s Resurrection. He imagined the smiles on their faces when they found his gift on Easter morning.

It was July 4, 1976, and the huge, yellowed stones of the Western (Wailing) Wall, all that remains of the enclosure that was once part of the resplendent glory of Solomon’s Temple, echoed with singing: “God is with us; no one can defeat us.” The golden city of Jerusalem, made more golden by the ruddy glow of the setting sun, sang her victory song. Israel had amazed the world that morning with her daring commando raid on the airport at Entebbe, Uganda. Ninety hijacked Israeli hostages, facing the threat of death, had been rescued and flown back to Israel.
On the evening of that eventful day, I photographed soldiers and civilians whirling together in dancing circles, singing and praising God. The dusky evening light merged colors and shapes into a oneness. I stood next to a soldier as he leaned his head against his arm to pray at the rough stone of the Wall, while behind us common folk and government officials blended their voices in vocal prayer and thanksgiving for the glory of Israel.

But I must also tell you about one rare graduate-to-be who went job hunting, portfolio in hand, hoping to get on with a radio station. He saw KLM on a plate glass front in San Francisco, went in, asked for and received an interview. Fortunately, his personality and his qualifications were strong enough to get him hired—not by station KLM, as he’d figured, but by KLM Dutch Airlines, beginning a long and rewarding career in sales promotion and public relations.