Gospel Story Finder

Primary lessons can sure stir things up! Last week Sister Pierson said that since we were all getting baptized this year, we should try to do what Jesus would want us to do and follow his example. “Melissa,” she asked me, “why did Jesus do things for other people?”
I said, “Because he loved them.”
So we talked about serving people out of love, not for thanks. Then Sister Pierson’s eyes started to sparkle, and Josey groaned because she knew that that meant that Sister Pierson had an assignment for us. “I would like each of you to do something for someone every single day this week,” she challenged us, “without their knowing. Small acts of service can make a big difference in peoples’ lives.”
Boy, would that be hard in my family. Mom and Dad notice everything we do, especially since they usually have to ask umpteen times before it gets done. They’d be really suspicious if things just started happening.
Monday after school, Mom said she had to take Jeanette, my big sister, to the doctor. As soon as she left, I peeked outside to see my brother, Billy, shooting baskets. I knew he wouldn’t be coming into the house for a while. I unloaded the dishwasher and put everything away exactly right. I even got the glasses up high without dropping one. It was really Billy’s turn to unload the dishwasher, but he waits until Mom’s practically yelling before he does it. This time Mom wouldn’t yell, and Billy would think she did it for him, and no one would guess that I’d done it.
It felt strange that evening—sort of peaceful. Billy did his homework without being told to, and Jeanette and Mom cheerfully cleared up after dinner. No one said anything about the dishes having been put away.
On Tuesday we made oatmeal-walnut-chocolate chip cookies. After we were finished, I took six out of the cookie jar, wrapped them in a napkin, and put them into a small paper bag. Mrs. Henderson next door is a widow and lives by herself. I know that she loves Mom’s cookies, so I put them on her doorstep, rang the bell, and ran behind some bushes to watch. She was really pleased when she found the cookies.
On Wednesday after school, I noticed Jeanette hadn’t made her bed, so I made it for her. It was hard because I had to get the bedspread tucked under the pillow just right so that there was still enough to pull over the top. I finally did it, but when I took one last look, there was a whole bunch of extra sheet hanging down on one side. I almost cried. I tucked it under the mattress, because I didn’t have the heart to start all over again, and I just hoped she wouldn’t guess that it was me who’d made the bed. When she came home that night, Jeanette didn’t say anything about it.
I got up the next morning, wondering if it was even worth doing anything, since nobody seemed to care. I mean, nobody had noticed anything enough to even ask who had done it! But I wanted to tell Sister Pierson that I had done the entire week, so I kept going.
Dad still had mud caked on his boots from last weekend, and I knew he’d need them again this Saturday, so when I got home from school, I found the old knife he uses as a scraper and spent a whole hour getting them clean again. Most of that time I was thinking that he’d better appreciate it.
Friday morning, my lunch was all fixed and ready to go when I got downstairs. I guess Mom did it—I even got cheese crackers! So I gave her an extra-big hug and felt good again. In the afternoon I quietly put all the clean clothes away while she was peeling carrots and potatoes for dinner, and I felt even better.
Saturday morning Billy and I got up early to watch cartoons. We get to do that until everybody’s up and it’s time to do chores. Dad came clomping in, in his boots, tickled Billy and me for a minute, then gave Mom a kiss. “Thanks for cleaning these off, Honey,” he said. “I’ve been putting it off all week.”
Mom looked surprised. “But I didn’t. I—”
But Dad had clumped out the door already. I just kept my eyes on the television and smiled inside, where Mom couldn’t see.
Mom let us watch TV an extra half-hour before she turned it off and said, “Get dressed—time for chores.” Her voice was happy, so we knew that it would be a fun workday instead of a drag.
I got all the way across my room to the dresser before I realized that someone had already made my bed—corners tucked up, sheets and blankets perfectly even, and my pillow all smoothed out. Downstairs, Mom was whistling. I smiled, inside and out. Little things do make a big difference. I’d have a lot to tell Sister Pierson on Sunday.

Eli Hansen, 15, from Burley, Idaho, was taking an acting class in high school and thought Pirates would be fun. “I learned I have some talents I’ve never used before,” he says. “I didn’t know I could dance or sing. Now they’re getting me into the ward choir.”

My beloved brothers and sisters, I am grateful for this opportunity that is mine to bear witness of the divinity of this great work and testify to all the world that we are led by a prophet of God. I don’t think I’ve heard any more convincing words of love than those I’ve heard when I’ve been in the temple with President Benson and his dedicated Counselors and he says, “I love you, my Brethren. I love every one of you.” From the depths of his heart, he has proclaimed to us the true significance of love for our fellowmen.

I will forever remember the day a child new to our neighborhood knocked on our door and asked if our children could come out to play. I explained to him, as to others young and old, for the thousandth time, that we didn’t have any children. This little boy squinted his innocent face in a quizzical look and asked the question that I had not dared put into words, “If you are not a mother, then what are you?”

The doctrine of repentance allows us to correct or fix defects, but it is better to focus on meeting God’s standards than to plan on invoking the principle of repentance before the Judgment. I learned this lesson when I was young.

As a teenager I spent my summers working on my grandfather’s ranch in Wyoming, USA. It was a sheep and cattle ranch of more than 2,000 acres (810 ha), plus additional rangeland. The ranch operation required a lot of equipment. Because the closest repair center was far away, my grandfather taught us to carefully maintain the equipment and to inspect everything before we left the ranch house. If we had a breakdown, it was usually miles from the ranch house, and that meant a long walk.

It didn’t take long for me to learn the law of consequences. It was always better to avoid problems than to take a long walk. The same is true with the commandments of our Heavenly Father. He can tell the difference between someone who truly is striving to become like Him and an individual who is pushing the edges but trying to stay just inside the acceptable limits.

When I was struggling with my decision about whether to serve a mission, I spent some time every day by myself reading and studying, pondering and praying, and gaining a witness that what I was about to do was right.
I remember being alone in a peaceful setting. I knelt down and prayed to know if going on a mission was the right thing to do. It felt good to me. I had been through a period of personal torment on what to do, and after the cumulative effort of pondering and praying, I received a feeling of peace in my mind and heart. It was like the counsel that Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery received from the Lord, “Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter” (D&C 6:23).
We didn’t have Preach My Gospel, but I read the Book of Mormon cover to cover and gained a personal witness of my Savior Jesus Christ. I also had the old basic missionary outline of seven discussions, and I decided to commit those principles to memory. I wanted to connect the doctrine to the principles in the discussions, and I found it was easier to do if I had a foundation of scriptures to rely on. I realized that four elements are vital to gain spiritual strength: ponder, pray, perform, and then persevere.

Kim Ho Jik took a deep breath. It was his first day studying and teaching at a university in the United States.
Learning was important to Ho Jik. He wanted to learn as much as he could about nutrition. Then he could make life better for people in South Korea, where he was from.
Ho Jik carried a box of books up some steps to his new office.
“Hello,” said a man from the office next door. “I’m Oliver. I’m studying here too.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Ho Jik said.
Weeks passed. Ho Jik and Oliver became friends. They talked about what they were learning. Ho Jik noticed that Oliver never drank or smoked. He didn’t work on Sundays either. I wonder why, Ho Jik thought.
One day Oliver gave Ho Jik a book. It was about the Articles of Faith. “This book tells about what I believe,” Oliver said. “Let me know if you want to learn more.”
Ho Jik finished the book in less than a week. Oliver gave him another book called the Book of Mormon. Ho Jik read it quickly too. He started going to church with Oliver. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to be baptized.
Soon it was Oliver’s last day at the university. Ho Jik saw him in the hallway. “I believe God brought you here for a special reason,” Oliver said. “But not just so you can teach your people about nutrition. You need to teach them about the gospel too.”
Ho Jik thought about Oliver’s words for a long time. Finally he decided to be baptized. He was baptized in the same river where Joseph Smith was baptized 122 years earlier!

In a missionary meeting in a remote corner of the world, Sister Oaks and I listened as a devoted brother said, “I never thought I could teach the gospel. I only thought I could fish. But now that I am here, I get so wrapped up in telling people about the gospel!”

A few minutes later, another devoted missionary, his wife, said, “I feel so sorry for those who have nothing to worry about and occupy them except how many steps to the swimming pool or the golf course!”

In February, Elder D. Todd Christofferson visited members in Ghana, Nigeria, Ivory Coast, and Liberia during a 12-day visit to the Africa West Area. The trip included a meeting with the president of Ghana. They discussed their shared focus on education and reviewed the BYU–Pathway Worldwide and Gathering Place programs.

It all started a couple of years ago when my dad was out of ideas to keep us under control. Being the father of ten active and quite rambunctious children, he needed a way to discipline our behavior. Consequently, he tried several methods of punishment that didn’t work particularly well.
Unfortunately for us, Dad came up with an idea that he thought was absolutely brilliant. Dreadful was a better word for it. We have a walnut tree in our backyard. Dad had been noticing how many walnuts go uncracked every year. He decided to mix that chore with our punishment. Every time we would break a family rule we would have to crack one half cup of nuts. Half a cup of nuts became the standard unit of punishment.
Cracking nuts may sound silly, but, believe me, it’s hard work. Picture a bunch of kids sitting on a hot sidewalk cracking each walnut one by one with a brick, then picking out the meat. Filling up one-half cup takes about 45 minutes, 35 if you’re a pro.
We children weren’t exactly thrilled with the idea, but we always had an abundance of cracked walnuts around to add to breads or cookies.

2. It isn’t always easy to get seven children to work in harmony around the home but when their dad can work with them the children just love it and “work” turns into “fun.” Part of this comes because he’s always telling them about the chores he had as a boy and how important it is to like to work.
As a family we plant a garden each spring. We all get involved in preparing the ground, planting the seeds, watering, hoeing, and pulling weeds. Then in the summer and fall each child experiences some part of harvesting the results—pulling radishes, picking berries or corn, digging potatoes, etc.
Neil is very alert for teaching opportunities and compares aspects of gardening to preparing for missions, life after death, the importance of getting proper care and training, destroying the enemy (weeds). Many lessons are taught from the simple things we do each day.

While visiting teachers no longer collect donations, they do retain the responsibility to assess needs—spiritual and temporal—and to work to meet those needs. Eliza R. Snow (1804–87), second Relief Society general president, explained: “A teacher … should surely have so much of the Spirit of the Lord, as she enters a house to know what spirit she meets in there. … Plead before God and the Holy Ghost to get [the Spirit] so that you will be able to meet that spirit that prevails in that house … and you may feel to talk words of peace and comfort, and if you find a sister feeling cold, take her to your heart as you would a child to your bosom and warm [her] up.”5

There is so much of evil in the world, and so great a need for good to overcome it. Anyone who has read a newspaper or listened to a news broadcast during the past few days could not help being moved by the story of what must have been the work of a depraved individual in introducing a deadly poison in place of a beneficent medication. It is an indication of the depths to which men may sink, and of the great need in this world to overcome evil with good. We ought to do better; we ought to become as leaven; we ought to become as a light from which goodness and truth and beauty and virtue may spread across the world.

As soon as Rodney left, I felt sick inside. I hadn’t exactly promised to help him and Bryce take Mr. Archuleta’s apricots. I had just said that I knew Mr. Archuleta and wouldn’t be afraid to talk to him. Of course, I knew Rodney and Bryce wanted me to get Mr. Archuleta’s attention away from his trees so that they could slip over his back fence and steal some of his giant orange apricots.
I had been in Cedar Fork only two weeks. The thing that had worried me most about moving here from Logan was leaving my friends and going to a place where no one knew me. School was starting soon, and I’d dreaded going to fourth grade not knowing anyone.
Mom had told me that things would work out, but I wasn’t so sure. I wanted to just go back to Logan. Then Rodney stopped by my second day in Cedar Fork and invited me to play baseball with him and his friend Bryce.
After that, I was with Rodney and Bryce a lot. We played ball at the park, built a clubhouse in Bryce’s backyard, walked to Bond’s Market for ice-cream bars, and rode our bikes out to Juniper Hill, where we hunted for horned toads and lizards. I didn’t worry anymore about going to school, because I would be with them.
Then they decided they wanted some of Mr. Archuleta’s apricots.
“We won’t get caught.” Rodney grinned at me. “We’ve taken stuff out of his orchard and garden before.”
“Yeah,” Bryce joined in. “Last year, before you came, his cherry trees were loaded, and we took all we wanted. He almost caught us a couple of times, but we were too smart for him.”
I thought about the things Mom and Dad had taught me about being honest. “But isn’t that stealing?”
Rodney and Bryce glanced at each other, their smiles drooping a little. Then Rodney shook his head. “We’re just sort of borrowing. He has plenty.”
“Besides,” Bryce added, “lots more than we take fall off the tree, and he has to throw them away. We’re just getting them before they fall and get ruined. We don’t like things to go to waste.” He laughed, and Rodney joined in. I smiled but felt sick inside.
Mr. Archuleta had been one of the first people to come over and welcome us to Cedar Fork. Now I was going to return his friendship by stealing from him.
I watched Rodney and Bryce ride away. They said that they’d be back after lunch to get the apricots. I shuffled uneasily up my front walk and into the kitchen, where Mom was fixing sandwiches.
“Well, Joel, you look like you lost your best friend. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” I mumbled. There was no way that I could explain to Mom what I was planning to do.
“Well, wash up and sit down. These sandwiches are almost ready.”
Mom tried to get me to talk during lunch, but I just silently nibbled on the corner of my sandwich. “Do you have any chores for me?” I finally asked her hopefully.
She looked across the table at me and raised her eyebrows. Usually I was trying to get out of work. “You cut the grass and raked it yesterday afternoon, didn’t you?”
I nodded.
“And you cleaned your room?”
I nodded again.
“And you took the trash out today.”
“Don’t you have anything else? I’ll do it.”
“You could clear the table and do these few dishes,” Mom said.
“Don’t you have something that will take more time than that?”
Mom laughed. “Are you feeling all right?”
I nodded.
“Why don’t you just enjoy the afternoon today. Aren’t Rodney and Bryce coming over again?”
I looked down at my half-eaten sandwich and nodded.
“Why don’t you play with them, and then if you still want to do a little work, I’ll find something.”
I dragged out to the front lawn, knowing that Rodney and Bryce were going to show up any minute. If I didn’t think of something quick, I’d soon be stealing Mr. Archuleta’s apricots.
I liked Mr. Archuleta. But I liked Rodney and Bryce, too, and wanted to be their friend. Except for sneaking things from Mr. Archuleta, they seemed to be pretty good guys. I didn’t want them getting upset with me. Then I thought of all the times Mom and Dad had talked to me about being honest. I had made up my mind a long time ago that I would never steal, but now. …
I had never felt so miserable in my life. I loved eating juicy orange apricots, but somehow I knew that the plumpest, sweetest apricot off Mr. Archuleta’s tree would taste bitter if it were stolen. I tried to tell myself that I wasn’t actually going to steal the apricots. Bryce and Rodney would do that. I wouldn’t eat any of them, either. I could tell Rodney and Bryce that I didn’t like apricots or that I didn’t feel hungry. But those were just more lies.
Finally I decided to run away from my problem. I’d go to the park and stay all afternoon. That way I wouldn’t have to face Rodney and Bryce, and I wouldn’t have to steal from Mr. Archuleta.
Pushing myself up from the grass, I headed down the walk, wanting to get away before Bryce and Rodney came.
I didn’t get fifty feet, though, before Bryce called to me. “Hey, Joel, where are you headed?”
I stopped and turned. He was jogging down the walk toward me. “Did you think we’d ditched you?”
I gulped and shrugged.
“Rodney’ll be here in just a second. He had to do a couple of chores at home first.” Bryce pulled a plastic bag out of his back pocket and held it up. “I’m all ready. All you’ll have to do is keep Mr. Archuleta busy, and Rodney and I will do the rest.”
I knew I should have said something, but I couldn’t. I just swallowed hard and followed Bryce down the street.
Rodney showed up a few minutes later. We were soon across the street from Mr. Archuleta’s place. He was working in the flower beds along the side of his house. From there he had a perfect view of his apricot trees in the backyard. As long as he was working there, Rodney and Bryce couldn’t slip unseen into his backyard.
“All right, Joel,” Rodney whispered, “you start talking to him. We’ll go around and slip over his back fence. If you keep him talking, he won’t see anything.”
“What am I going to say to him? I mean, how can I keep talking that long?”
Rodney rolled his eyes. “All you have to do is ask him about his flowers and yard. He loves to talk about stuff like that.”
I looked away. Reaching down I picked up a pebble and tossed it into the street.
“You’re not chickening out on us are you?” Bryce accused, suddenly serious.
This was it. My two best friends in Cedar Fork were going to walk away, and I’d be alone again. I didn’t want to lose them, but I just couldn’t steal from Mr. Archuleta!
“I can’t do it,” I rasped, staring across the street at Mr. Archuleta.
“Why not?” Bryce demanded. I could tell he was angry.
“Because it’s stealing.”
“Come on, Rodney, let’s go.”
When I looked up, they were walking down the street. For a moment I wanted to call to them, tell them to come back, that I would go ahead and talk to Mr. Archuleta. But I didn’t. I just watched them disappear into Rodney’s yard.
“Hello, Mr. Archuleta,” I called out as I walked up his driveway and wandered over to where he was working.
He stopped digging in the dirt, turned, and smiled at me. “Why, hello, Joel.” He set his digging fork down, pushed his straw hat back, and wiped his brow with a white handkerchief. “What’s up?”
I shrugged. “I was just passing by and saw you out here working. Do you need some help? I don’t have much else to do.”
“Where are the two buddies you’ve been running around with?”
I took a deep breath. “They had some other things to do. I can give you a hand if you need some help.”
Mr. Archuleta thought for a moment. “There is one thing you could do, Joel. It’s a bit messy, but it’d sure help me out.”
“I’ve been messy before.”
“My apricots are coming on. A bunch of them have fallen on the ground. If I leave them, they just get stepped on or turn rotten and make an even worse mess. If you don’t mind, you could grab that bucket on the back steps and pick up all the fruit that’s dropped on the ground.”
I was glad to help out. As I worked picking up the soft and bruised fruit, I thought how much better I felt doing something kind for Mr. Archuleta instead of stealing from him.
When I’d finished and dumped the last bucketful into the garbage barrel, Mr. Archuleta thanked me and handed me a paper sack. “Now, Joel, do you see that one low branch that’s loaded with apricots? Why don’t you pick yourself a sackful. Those are some of the best apricots I’ve grown. I think you’ll like them.”
“Thanks, Mr. Archuleta! I love apricots.”
A few minutes later I jogged down the street with my freshly picked apricots.
“Hey, what’s in the sack?”
I turned. I was in front of Rodney’s place. He and Bryce were sitting under the willow tree in his front yard.
“Apricots,” I said, smiling and holding up the bulging bag. “Want some?”
“You got some of Mr. Archuleta’s apricots?” Rodney asked, standing up.
I nodded.
“You did it all by yourself?”
I nodded again.
“I told you he wasn’t chicken.” Rodney laughed and slapped me on the shoulder as I opened the sack and let them reach in. They each chomped down hungrily.
“But I didn’t steal them.”
Rodney and Bryce stopped chewing and stared at me.
“He let me pick them. I don’t like stealing things.”
“You just walked into his yard, and he let you pick a whole sackful of his best apricots?” Bryce didn’t believe me.
“I did some work for him, and then he let me pick the apricots.”
Bryce stared at me and took another bite. “They’re good apricots.”
Rodney nodded with his mouth full.
“And they taste better this way,” I said.
“What way?” Rodney wanted to know.
“When they’re not stolen.”
Rodney thought a moment, then nodded. “Do you think Mr. Archuleta would let us work for apricots too?”
“He probably would—we can ask him tomorrow.” I took an apricot for myself.
Bryce grabbed another apricot. “Rodney and I were just headed for the park to play ball. You want to come?”
I nodded, happy that we were still friends—the right kind of friends.

One Saturday morning I was on my way to fulfill an assignment on a welfare farm. We were to clean the weeds out of an irrigation ditch. My route took me past the home of an elderly widow in my ward, who was weeding her front yard. The temperature was already in the mid-eighties and she looked like she was near to having sunstroke. For a fleeting moment I thought I should stop and lend a helping hand, but my conscience allowed me to drive on by because, after all, I had an assignment on the welfare farm. I wonder what would have happened if I had followed the spontaneous prompting of the Spirit and unleashed the genuine compassion I was feeling. I wonder what would have happened to her; I wonder what would have happened to me. But I couldn’t do that because I hadn’t been assigned. We need more spontaneous acts of compassionate service.

Illustrations by Adam Koford
Good morning, Berrett! Ready to read scriptures?
Yes! Where’s Jessica?
She looks really tired! I bet she was up late doing homework again.
“For I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you.”
I want to do what Jesus would do. Maybe I can help Jessica today.
You rest here. I’ll bring you breakfast!
I love you, Jessica. Have a happy day!
Thanks for helping me.
You’re welcome. I’m trying to be like Jesus!

Joseph would often speak outside so that more people could hear him. On one such day in Nauvoo, a heavy wind and storm came up in the middle of his preaching.
This dust is so thick; I can’t see anything.
Let’s go home before it gets worse.
Joseph called out to those who were leaving.
Let everyone pray to the Almighty God that the winds and the rain might cease, and it shall be so.
O Father, bless that the wind and the rain will cease.
After several minutes, the storm divided. The bushes and trees on either side of the group were waving in the wind, but there was calm where Joseph spoke.
Now, brothers and sisters, I would like to speak to you about some important truths.
An hour later the Prophet concluded, and the storm returned.
Return quickly to your homes and think about what I have said.
Hurry, children.

To a large majority of the world, we are considered a different kind of people. We live a clean, mellow life in contrast to the partying lifestyle. I had the opportunity to travel to several different colleges throughout the United States on recruiting trips. While this was an extremely fun and exciting experience, it was also a huge eye-opener for me. The girls on the teams I was being recruited by had never even heard of Mormons. On every single trip, I ended up explaining my beliefs. They were shocked by some of the things I told them, but this was a real testimony builder. As I told them what I believe, I felt an even stronger testimony growing inside me.

My great-grandparents buried a child on the trail from Far West, when they were driven to Nauvoo, and another at Winter Quarters, when they were driven west.
Another great-grandmother, a teenager, was pushing a handcart along the south banks of the Platte River. They sang:
We’ll find the place which God for us prepared,
Far away in the West,
Where none shall come to hurt or make afraid;
There the Saints will be blessed.
Across the river they could see the sun glinting on the weapons of the soldiers of the army.
In St. Louis my great-grandmother bought a little enameled pin of the American flag. She wore it on her dress for the rest of her life.

The Martin Handcart Company, however, was forced by the storm to stop in a small valley on the side of a mountain with very little shelter. After wading through deep snow up to this point, the pioneers stopped in a cove, formed by rock outcroppings. Trees provided protection and fuel. There they waited for help and supplies from Salt Lake City. In just five days, 56 of the 145 total who died in the crossing perished. But thanks to heroic rescue efforts of Church members sent by Brigham Young, the majority, 431 of the Martin handcart pioneers, survived the trip.