Gospel Story Finder

Janick doesn’t like to sing just at home or at church. One of his favorite Primary activities was when the children from his ward went to a rest home and sang to the people there. “It felt good,” he said. And that’s a feeling Janick often gets as he tries to do what’s right.

Later on I realized how hard it frequently is for some people to give up something they really love and enjoy. I have always loved sports and particularly enjoyed playing handball with my brother David. One day I came off a handball court perspiring heavily and with my face flushed. A nonmember friend of mine, Dr. Plummer, was standing near my locker. He looked at me and said, “Brother Joseph, if you don’t stop that, one of these days you will drop dead on the floor, just as So-and-so did.”
It was hard for me. Every day I wanted to play some handball. Whenever I would look out my office window, I’d see the Deseret Gym next door and want to go and play. But I kept my resolve. I visited Dr. Plummer a short time later, and he said, “Brother Joseph, are you still playing handball?”
I said, “Doctor, when you told me to quit, I quit, and I have never been back on the court.” That seemed to please him very much, but my teammates were very upset. They came to me and said, “We need you. You are breaking up our foursome.”
“I am sorry,” I said, “but I am through.” I enjoyed that game more than I can say. I almost hungered to play, but I had learned that it was not good for me at my age. At that time I gained a little more perspective on how difficult it is for converts to give up some activity or habit they may have enjoyed for many years prior to baptism.
I’ve learned from my own experience that when you want to change, really want to change, you can do it. Our conscience and the scriptures tell us what to live by—and they tell us what habits we should change for our eternal welfare and progress.

A few years ago, the missionaries held an activity and gave all the youth a challenge to go without their phones and social media for a few days so that they could be more centered on the gospel and be able to share it with others. I accepted the challenge and shared the gospel with a friend and told them about the missionaries’ challenge. That friend became interested and started meeting with the missionaries. He was baptized a few months later.

Recently, in company with a few national religious leaders, I was invited to the White House to meet with the president. In talking to us he was frank and straightforward.

That same evening he spoke to the Congress and the nation in unmistakable language concerning the resolve of America and its friends to hunt down the terrorists who were responsible for the planning of this terrible thing and any who harbored such.

Some 50 years ago I received an invitation to meet with President J. Reuben Clark Jr. (1871–1961), a counselor in the First Presidency of the Church, a statesman of towering stature, and a scholar of international renown. My profession then was in the field of printing and publishing. President Clark made me welcome in his office and then produced from his old rolltop desk a large sheaf of handwritten notes, many of them made when he was a law student long years before. He proceeded to outline for me his goal of producing a harmony of the Gospels. This goal was achieved with his monumental work Our Lord of the Gospels.
In my library is a personally inscribed, leather-bound copy of this classic treatment of the life of Jesus of Nazareth. As I have perused its pages, I have paused at the section entitled “The Miracles of Jesus.” I remember as though it were yesterday President Clark asking me to read to him several of these accounts while he sat back in his large leather chair and listened. That was a day in my life never to be forgotten.
President Clark asked me to read aloud the account found in Luke concerning the man filled with leprosy. I proceeded to read:
“And it came to pass, when he was in a certain city, behold a man full of leprosy: who seeing Jesus fell on his face, and besought him, saying, Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean.
“And he put forth his hand, and touched him, saying, I will: be thou clean. And immediately the leprosy departed from him” (Luke 5:12–13).
He asked that I continue reading from Luke concerning the man afflicted with palsy and the enterprising manner in which he was presented for the attention of the Lord:
“And, behold, men brought in a bed a man which was taken with a palsy: and they sought means to bring him in, and to lay him before him.
“And when they could not find by what way they might bring him in because of the multitude, they went upon the housetop, and let him down through the tiling with his couch into the midst before Jesus.
“And when he saw their faith, he said unto him, Man, thy sins are forgiven thee” (Luke 5:18–20).
There followed in the scriptural account snide comments from the Pharisees concerning who had the right to forgive sins. Jesus silenced their bickering by saying:
“What reason ye in your hearts?
“Whether [it] is easier, to say, Thy sins be forgiven thee; or to say, Rise up and walk?
“But that ye may know that the Son of man hath power upon earth to forgive sins, (he said unto the sick of the palsy,) I say unto thee, Arise, and take up thy couch, and go into thine house.
“And immediately he rose up before them, and took up that whereon he lay, and departed to his own house, glorifying God” (Luke 5:22–25).
When I had read these scriptural stories aloud, President Clark removed from his pocket a handkerchief and wiped the tears from his eyes. He commented, “As we grow older, tears come more frequently.” After a few words of good-bye, I departed from his office, leaving him alone with his thoughts and his tears.

In addition to being an evening of uplifting music, the dance festival changed the lives of those involved. Matt Sakurada, 18, of the Roy Utah North Stake says: “There were lots of missionaries participating. That meant a lot to me because my brother is serving, and it felt as if he were there. This ‘Arise’ program helped me to realize that I should go on a mission, too.”

Stewart tapped his mom on the wrist. “When will Daddy be done? I’m hungry.”
“In just a few minutes, Stew.”
“What’s he doing in there, anyway? I want to go home.”
“Daddy’s talking to the bishop.”
“Why?”
“He’s answering questions like, ‘Do you tell the truth?’ ‘Are you kind to your family members?’ ‘Do you follow the prophet?’ Questions like that.”
“Why?”
“When Daddy answers questions like those, the bishop knows whether or not he is a commandment-keeper. If he is a commandment-keeper, he’ll get a special piece of paper, called a temple recommend. Only Church members with temple recommends can go inside the temple.”
“Oh.”
The bishop’s door opened, and Stewart’s daddy stepped out. He shook the bishop’s hand and smiled. “Your turn,” he said, looking at Mommy.
“I’ll be right back, Stew.”
Stewart sat quietly in his seat, thinking.
“So tonight’s the night for chocolate chip cookies, right Stew?” Daddy asked.
Stewart looked up. “Yes.”
“Are you going to help me bake them?”
“Yep.”
There was silence.
“Dad, are you a commandment-keeper?”
“I try to keep the commandments, Son. Sometimes I make mistakes, but I repent and try harder. It’s hard to be a commandment-keeper, but I do my best.”
“Did you get a temple rec– … rec– What’s that word?”
“Temple recommend. Here. Do you want to see it?” Daddy handed Stewart a small piece of paper.
Stewart looked at it carefully. “What does it say?”
“Well, I still have to talk to the stake president. But right now, it has the bishop’s name, and my name. And at the bottom, it says that I’m worthy to enter the temple.”
“Because you’re a commandment-keeper?”
“Right.”
Before long, Stewart’s mom opened the bishop’s door.
“Come on,” said Daddy. “Let’s go home and get those cookies ready to bake and eat!”
Riding home in the car, Stewart was quiet. Mom looked into the rearview mirror and saw that he looked sad. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
At a stoplight, Daddy turned to the backseat. “Stew, what’s the matter? Aren’t you excited about making our treats?”
“I wanted to tell the bishop I keep the commandments. I wanted my own special paper.”
Mommy and Daddy looked at each other.
“You wanted a temple recommend?” Daddy asked.
“Aren’t I good at keeping the commandments?”
“You’re very good at keeping the commandments. But you have to be twelve to go inside a temple. When you’re twelve, you’re old enough to get your own recommend and do baptisms for the dead,” Dad explained.
“So I don’t get a paper like yours till I’m twelve?”
“No.”
Stew looked out the window. Daddy and Mommy quietly looked ahead. Then Daddy had an idea. “Hey! You can still have a piece of paper that says you keep the commandments! After we get the cookies started, you come into my office!”
Stew gave his dad a cautious smile. “OK.”
Once at home, the family set to work on the cookies right away. When the first batch went into the oven, Stewart went to his dad’s office.
“Have a seat, Son. I’ll sit here, across from you.”
Stew climbed into a chair and got comfortable.
“Now let’s start with a prayer.” Daddy folded his arms and Stew followed. Daddy asked Heavenly Father that His Spirit would be with them as they talked. He told the Lord that he loved his little boy. Stew felt happy inside.
When the prayer was finished, the questions began. Daddy looked Stewart in the eyes. “First, do you believe in Jesus Christ?”
“Yes I do.”
“I do, too, Stew. He’s my very best friend. Now, do you believe that the scriptures are true, and do you read them every day?”
“Well, Mommy reads them to me, but yesterday we both forgot.”
“Do you read them most days?”
“Yes.”
“That’s great. Reading the scriptures is one of the best ways to learn about Jesus Christ. Do you say your prayers?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Wonderful. How do you feel when you pray?”
“I feel glad because Heavenly Father can hear me and answer me.”
“Yes, He likes it when we pray to Him. The more we pray, the more He can help us. And you and I need lots of help, don’t we?”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe that Gordon B. Hinckley is a true prophet?”
“I know he is a prophet.”
“How do you know?”
“Because that’s what you told me.”
“Heavenly Father will tell you, too, if you ask Him. I’ve asked Heavenly Father, and He’s told me,” Daddy said. “Now, do you tell the truth?”
Stew frowned. “Well, I lied about that mess in the kitchen. But you already knew that.”
“I remember. You blamed a friend for the mess, and it was really you who did it.”
Stewart’s shoulders drooped. “So I guess I’m not a commandment-keeper?”
“Well, did you repent of telling that lie?”
“I told you and Nathan I was sorry.”
“Did you really feel sorry? Sorry enough to want to tell the truth from now on?”
“Yes.”
“If we repent when we make mistakes,
Heavenly Father forgives us and forgets about the mistake. We’re still commandment-keepers, as long as we keep trying and keep repenting.”
Stewart sat tall again. He felt thankful for repentance.
Daddy asked more questions about the commandments: “Are you good to your parents?” “Do you keep Sunday special for remembering Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ?” “Do you pay tithing?” “Do you stay away from dangerous foods and drinks?”
Soon Stewart had answered every question. Daddy held out his hand. “Congratulations! You are a commandment-keeper.”
Shaking hands with his dad, Stewart beamed.
Daddy wrote some words on a small note card and handed it to Stew. “This piece of paper says that you’re a commandment-keeper. Right now, you’re not old enough to go into the temple, but you are worthy enough. That’s terrific!”
Stewart smiled, put the note card in his pocket, and said, “When I’m twelve, I’m going straight to the temple.”
“Great!”
“But right now”—Stewart grinned—“I’m only five, and I’m going straight to the kitchen. I can smell those yummy cookies and I’m starving.”
“Me too! Let’s go.”

Immediately after young Tom Monson’s discharge from the navy following the conclusion of World War II, he was called to serve as a ward clerk. One evening he sat silently taking minutes while the bishopric agonized over the obvious lack of success with the young people in their ward, including challenges within the MIA program. Apparently the young clerk took it about as long as he could and then said, “Excuse me, brethren, but may I say something about the MIA and the youth challenges in this ward?” He then launched into a rapid-fire and profound summary of not only what was wrong with their ward youth program but what could rather quickly make it right. Then, realizing he may have been too bold and too presumptuous, he said, “Forgive me. I think I have said too much,” and excused himself from the room.
He was no sooner out the door than the bishopric looked at each other and said, “What are we waiting for?” They immediately called him back into the room, released him as ward clerk, and called him to be the superintendent of the MIA. In six months the 6–7th Ward combined program, with its totally committed young superintendent, was the example to which every other leader in the Temple View Stake looked for their own youth activities.

On the day of my baptism, I felt clean, pure, and truly perfect. I loved the feeling so much that I made a goal to stay perfect forever. I will never sin again, I told myself.
Fast-forward one day.
I wanted to play with my big sister’s new Barbie doll, but she wouldn’t let me, no matter how hard I tried to convince her. So, in a rage that made me forget my goal to remain sin-free, I grabbed a pair of scissors while she wasn’t looking and cut off all her doll’s hair.
Admittedly, I was somehow under the impression that the doll’s hair would grow back. But as I sat looking at all the synthetic hairs piled in my lap, I felt the sting of having ruined my newly perfected life.
When my sister found out, she was furious. My parents explained to me that the doll’s hair would not grow back. Guilt and regret overwhelmed me as I watched my sister cry at the sight of her forever-bald doll.
With a little time and a lot of apologizing on my part, my sister forgave me. But I still never forgot how disappointed I felt for having given up my perfect life all too quickly.
As painful as it was as an eight-year-old to realize I made a mistake the day after my baptism, Heavenly Father provided a way for me to repent. Through the Savior’s perfect example and sacrifice, we can overcome our sins and make good choices that bring us blessings.

I can’t refrain from telling you one other thing about that visit with my brother in Washington. He was to take a B-25 bomber to Texas to pick up something and return to Washington the next day. I went with him. That was the only time we flew together.
Many years later I was honored by Weber State University, where we both had graduated. He had been a student body officer during his college days. Because I would be in South America, he agreed to attend the banquet and accept the award in my behalf.
In his acceptance speech he told this story—part of which is true. He said that in Texas we were lined up side by side on the runway ready to take off. He radioed to me and said, “See you upstairs—if you think you can make it!”
Then he told them that after I became a General Authority of the Church, once in a while I would check on his behavior and add, “See you upstairs—if you think you can make it!”
Well, Leon made it. He is now where I hope one day to be.

Seminary began as it usually did: we sang a hymn, recited the scripture-of-the-week, and said the prayer. Then I began telling Grandma’s story about service. As I spoke, I kept noticing my seminary teacher, Brother Olsen, in one of the desks on the back row. He looked really serious.
Great! I thought. I hope he’s not mad at me. Maybe this wasn’t what he had in mind when he asked me to do the devotional. I finished the story by saying, “I hope we can all take time to serve others like my grandma did, because we never know how much good one small act of service can do.” Then I quickly sat down in my desk.
My seminary teacher didn’t say anything. He just sat there in the back row. Everyone started looking at him.
“Man, I must have really blown it,” I thought.
Finally Brother Olsen spoke. “Lindsay, what is your grandma’s name?”
“Mary Lois Gunnell,” I answered. What was he going to do—call her and make sure I hadn’t made up the story?
Brother Olsen continued, “Do you know who that sergeant was? That was my sergeant while I was in the service myself, and I was very close to him.” Everyone in the class started whispering.
“No way!” said one of the boys. He thought we had planned this all out before.
“Really,” Brother Olsen said sincerely. “I knew him before he was wounded and after he recovered. He told me that same story himself and said how much that meant to him to have a stranger care enough to bake a birthday cake for him. He wanted to thank the woman, but never knew her name.” Brother Olsen looked right at me. “Lindsay, that cake wasn’t just a birthday cake. It was the beginning of a whole new life for my sergeant.”
I couldn’t believe it, and I couldn’t wait to tell Grandma.
“Class,” Brother Olsen continued, “I want you to know that Lindsay’s Grandma’s act of service literally changed that sergeant’s life. Before he was wounded, he was pretty mean. Every other word out of his mouth was a swear word. After he received that cake in the hospital in Colorado, he decided to change. He told me he was going to try harder to be a better person, and that’s just what he did.”
Until hearing about Brother Olsen’s sergeant, I never realized how much just one kind deed could affect another. My grandma sweetened a bitter man’s life with as simple a thing as a cake. Her story gives me hope that my small acts of service—a smile or a kind word—may also add richness to other people’s lives.

The young women of the Ogden 84th Ward, Ogden Utah Lorin Farr Stake, have a special tradition of service. Each year for the past six, the girls have made a beautiful quilt and have donated it to the Primary Children’s Medical Center. After visiting the hospital, the young women tour Temple Square and other places important in Church history. It is a tradition they hope to continue in coming years.

The next Sunday I set off on my bicycle to find the LDS meetinghouse. I arrived, but, too nervous to go in alone, I waited for someone else and asked if I could walk in with them. Once I was inside the church, a warm feeling came over me. The missionaries soon spotted me.
As weeks went by, the missionaries taught me the gospel and challenged me to be baptized. I quickly accepted, but my parents had other ideas. I was only sixteen and they didn’t think I was really serious. But they told me that if I still wanted to join the Church when I was eighteen, they would give their permission.

Mrs. Harvest Mouse’s family waits for her inside the little grass house she built in the meadow. Which path should she take to get home with the seeds she has gathered for lunch?

Cassie experienced this after dating Brian for a year. Unfortunately, Brian was abusive. Cassie didn’t realize how much it affected her until after she left the relationship. Since then, Cassie has felt depressed, unable to trust her own thoughts and unable to trust others to support her. She often uses defense mechanisms to avoid getting hurt again and to manage feeling like others are angry with her or will leave her. Sometimes she unknowingly pushes others away or becomes demanding in relationships. These defenses make it difficult for her to get or feel close to others. After talking with loved ones and a counselor, Cassie recognized her trauma and her need to heal—and also that healing is possible over time.

Illustrations by Sal Velluto and Eugenio Mattozzi
Spencer grew up in a tight-knit Arizona community. When he was seven years old, he went to a picnic at a nearby ranch.
Boy: Hey, why don’t we hop in the pond for a swim?
Wearing their regular clothes, they all went swimming. But Spencer had not yet learned to swim well.
Spencer: I wish I could swim like you, Pa!
Father: Don’t cling so tight, Son.
Spencer: Not the deep part! Pa, I’m scared! Take me back to the shallow water.
Father: All right, Spencer. There, now. Can you feel the ground?
Spencer climbed off his father’s back, and his father swam away.
But as Spencer stepped toward shore, he fell into a deep hole!
He struggled and thrashed but did not think anyone had seen him go under.
Spencer: Help! Oh, why can’t someone hear me scream for help?
Just when Spencer thought he would drown, his father snatched him and dragged him to shore.
Spencer later learned to swim but never felt comfortable in deep water. He was grateful the Lord had preserved his life so he could grow and fulfill his mission on earth.

Terri is a fluffy pet that resembles a small dust mop. She is very quiet. Although Terri does not bark or meow, she jumps, scoots, and crawls as she follows her owner around the house.
Terri was bought in a pet shop. She is black and has orange circlets on her legs. Quiet and well mannered, she has never been mistreated and has had no reason to bite. Terri’s owner says she thinks that her tarantula would bite if she were tormented. “The needlelike fangs can hurt about like a bee’s stinger, but the bite is not poisonous unless you are allergic to it.”
Terri seems to like attention. She will scrunch down on the floor and wait for her owner to caress her glossy black head.
A tarantula seems to know when there is danger. If a strange dog comes into the room, Terri scoots behind the sofa. When the dog leaves, she jumps happily back into the middle of the room.

Henry and Mom were driving home. Gray clouds filled the sky. They even touched the ground. “This is a heavy fog,” Mom said.
Mom drove slowly. The lines on the road were getting harder to see.
“Are we going to get home OK?” Henry asked.
“I hope so,” Mom said. “It might take longer than usual. But I’m being careful.”
Henry could barely see the trees. He could barely see the buildings. He trusted Mom. But he felt lost.
Then Henry thought of something. “Can I say a prayer?” he asked.
“That’s a great idea,” Mom said.
Henry prayed. He asked Heavenly Father to make the fog go away so they would be safe. Then Henry opened his eyes. But the fog was still there. And now snow was falling!
Just then, lights along the highway came on. As they passed one light, they could see the next light up ahead. Mom followed the lights.
Henry and Mom finally found their way home. They pulled into the driveway. Mom looked at Henry. She smiled.
“Heavenly Father answered your prayer,” Mom said. “The fog didn’t go away. But the lights came on. And the lights helped us find our way.”
Henry smiled. He knew Mom was right. Henry bowed his head and said another prayer. This time the prayer was to tell Heavenly Father thank you.

“One of the coordinators caught our troop just as we were finishing our first stretch of highway,” said Brent Chipman, 13, of the Fourth Ward. “He said there was another place that needed to be done, and asked if we could help. We did two more sections, so we went the extra two miles!”

Have you memorized your monthly New Era? Kenneth Higbee did, in just a few hours.

Dr. Higbee, a psychologist at BYU, gives firesides in the Provo area explaining the “link system” of memory training.

With the “link system” a person associates easily remembered items together with mental pictures. For example, a shopping list of milk, bananas, and a can opener could easily be remembered by forming a mental picture of a banana opening a carton of milk. Before one such demonstration the youth of the Provo Utah Sharon East Stake were puzzled when asked to bring copies of the June New Era to a stake fireside.

After showing how the link system can be used to memorize lists rapidly and accurately, Dr. Higbee asked the young people to open their magazines and ask him any question about the contents. Although he couldn’t repeat the stories and articles word for word, he knew all the titles, authors, subjects, and even the page numbers of the articles.

After the New Era demonstration, the young people were asked to try and memorize a list of 20 words. Only three could do it. But after practicing the link system, over 80 percent of the group could memorize the complete 20-word list.

With a little practice you might be able to memorize the New Era too. And when you’ve got it down, pass the magazine on to a friend who “forgot” to subscribe. Or better still, subscribe for that friend!