Gospel Story Finder

From the beginning of the recruitment process, one of Shawn’s requirements was stated clearly, and if schools would not agree, then there was no more discussion. Shawn told them that as soon as he turned nineteen years old, he would be taking two years off to serve a mission. That point was nonnegotiable. All the colleges that talked with Shawn agreed. His family supported Shawn’s decision as he selected a school. Theresa confesses to being delighted when her son chose to go to Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah, just about a two-hour drive from home.

Frequently the heavenly virtue of patience is required. As a bishop I felt prompted one day to call on a man whose wife was somewhat active, as were the children. This man, however, had never responded. It was a hot summer’s day when I knocked on the screen door of Harold G. Gallacher. I could see Brother Gallacher sitting in his chair reading the newspaper. “Who is it?” he queried without looking up.

“Your bishop,” I replied. “I’ve come to get acquainted and to urge your attendance with your family at our meetings.”

“No, I’m too busy,” came the disdainful response. He never looked up. I thanked him for listening and departed the doorstep.

The Gallacher family moved to California shortly thereafter. The years went by. Then, as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve, I was working in my office one day when my secretary called, saying: “A Brother Gallacher who once lived in your ward would like to talk to you. He’s here in my office.”

I responded, “Ask him if his name is Harold G. Gallacher, who, with his family, lived at Vissing Place on West Temple and Fifth South.”

She said, “He is the man.”

I asked her to send him in. We had a pleasant conversation together concerning his family. He told me, “I’ve come to apologize for not getting out of my chair and letting you in the door that summer day long years ago.” I asked him if he was active in the Church. With a wry smile, he replied: “I’m now second counselor in my ward bishopric. Your invitation to come out to church, and my negative response, so haunted me that I determined to do something about it.”

Harold and I visited together on numerous occasions before he passed away. The Gallachers and their children filled many callings in the Church. One of the youngest grandchildren is now serving a full-time mission.

The same applies to schoolwork. “When I have a test at school,” says Armando Arellano, 16, “I ask Heavenly Father to help me remember what I have learned. He opens my mind and brings back what I’ve studied.”

The Liahona (Spanish) has long sustained me in my daily efforts to live the gospel. One day I was reading the September 1996 issue, hoping to find an answer to my prayers in its pages, and I noticed the illustration on the back cover depicting Lehi’s vision of the tree of life. I immediately knew that this reminder was the answer to the problems I was having. I know that the Liahona teaches of the iron rod—from which we should never let go.
Rosa María García Baena,Málaga First Branch, Málaga Spain District

In this scripture, the word believing has the deepest meaning to me. Three years ago, due to a mishap during a construction project, my father fell from the roof of a building. I fasted and prayed that Heavenly Father would bless my father to recover his health quickly. My father, who entered the hospital with a spinal injury and unable to walk, left the hospital only 13 days later. Now no one realizes he was ever injured.
Because I was younger at that time, I did not understand what benefit fasting and prayer would bring. I knew I had to believe. Through the teachings of the Church, I know how I can ask for help.Mi Cheng, 18Lu Yeh Branch, Hua Lien Taiwan District

Some time ago I was in this same situation. My friend, who is not yet a member of the Church, went to a bar and brought back two bottles of beer. I said to him, “Don’t you know my Latter-day Saint principles?” He answered, “Excuse me, I had forgotten; so I have no friend to drink with.” Then he surprised me. He threw the two bottles in the garbage. He always goes out with me now, but he does not drink.
Our examples influence other people. We need to follow the example of Jesus Christ.

Evan, a young Primary-age boy, decided to spend his summer vacation from school gathering supplies for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to donate to his local food bank. He found the project on the JustServe website. Young Evan enlisted his entire school class to help collect over 700 jars of jelly! Let the people you serve know that your concern for them is rooted in your love of God and your desire to treat your neighbor as yourself.

As the years go by, Thelma continues to be a source of inspiration. She handles adversity better than anybody else I know. She takes care of her wonderful son who has Down syndrome, our elderly mother, and a husband with a serious health condition. Also, if those things weren’t enough, she has health issues of her own.

A few years ago, Thelma underwent brain surgery to relieve pressure from a brain cyst. Given the needs of her loved ones, the prospect of any complications was intimidating. She prayed for help and inspiration and visited the temple. Through it all, her faith did not waver, but she had reservations about putting her life in the hands of the doctor who would perform the delicate surgery. Thelma was visiting with a dear friend during this time and confided her concerns about the surgery. Thelma’s friend asked for the doctor’s name and upon learning the name, Thelma’s friend said that the doctor was a member of her ward. She told Thelma that he was a faithful member of the Church and a worthy priesthood holder. He often played Church hymns while he performed surgeries. Although a simple piece of information, this was a tender answer to Thelma’s prayers. Thelma’s life and spiritual experiences are a source of continuous strength and testimony in my own life.

President McKay lived this counsel—composing love poems for his wife on her birthday, holding the car door open for her, and greeting and bidding her farewell with an affectionate kiss. Once when President and Sister McKay were traveling through California, a young boy who had been watching them approached her and said, pointing to President McKay, “I guess that man over there loves you.”12

When he was 15 years old, he talked with his older brother about building a testimony of his own. He decided to go on a mission when he was old enough. Later he served in the British Mission.

As I prepare for a mission after finishing a year of college, I have a new feeling for family. Every day I try to spend some quality time with a brother or sister or parent. I read to my little sister, drive my little brothers somewhere, go cruising with my other brother, or just sit and talk to my sisters about guys and girls and college. I talk with my parents on their level.
Travis Manning, 19Tacoma, Washington

For a couple of weeks I had been noticing a small tremor in my right hand. I persuaded myself it was only stress. Raising seven children can be a challenge, but when five of those children have multiple disabilities, life can be overwhelming at times. My schedule was filled with doctors’ appointments, therapies, daily medication routines, and the constant challenge of helping children struggle with seizures, mental retardation, bipolar disorder, and congenital heart disease.
My husband, Ron, had recently been called as bishop of our ward. We were grateful for his opportunity to serve and prayed daily that he would be able to bless the lives of those in our ward. Little did I realize that we would be the ones receiving the blessings.
Finally, I could ignore the tremor no more and sought medical help. As I left the doctor’s office that day, my life had changed forever. Parkinson’s disease was the diagnosis. Questions and fears flooded my mind. How would the disease progress? How would I care for my family? How would I continue to support Ron in his new calling? I longed for answers and desperately needed peace and comfort. The Savior’s words came to my mind: “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” (John 14:27).

We have in the modern history of the Church contrasting examples of men who were highly favored of the Lord. One, Hyrum Smith, remained totally faithful and committed, even to the giving of his life, while the other, Oliver Cowdery, despite having witnessed “some great things” in the history of the Restoration, became blinded by his personal ambition and lost his exalted place in the leadership of the Church.
Oliver Cowdery shared with the Prophet Joseph Smith many of the profound events of the Restoration, such as their baptism under the authority of John the Baptist, the conferral of the Aaronic Priesthood, the marvelous appearances in the Kirtland Temple, and writing with his own pen “the entire Book of Mormon (save a few pages) as it fell from the lips of the Prophet [Joseph Smith].” No one except the Prophet Joseph was more honored with the ministering of angels than Oliver Cowdery.
But when the Prophet Joseph fell upon hard times, Oliver was critical of him and became estranged from him. Despite the efforts of the Prophet to reach out the hand of fellowship to him, he became hostile to the Prophet and the Church and was excommunicated on April 12, 1838.
A few years after the death of the Prophet, Oliver repented and expressed interest in coming back to the Church. In response, Brigham Young wrote on November 22, 1847, inviting him to “return to our father’s house, from whence thou hast wandered, … and renew thy testimony to the truth of the Book of Mormon.” Oliver appeared before the high priests quorum and said: “Brethren for a number of years I have been separated from you. I now desire to come back. I wish to come humbly and be one in your midst.—I seek no station. I only wish to be identified with you.—I am out of the church. I am not a member of the church. I wish to become a member of the church again. I wish to come in at the door. I know the door. I have not come here to seek precedence. I come humbly and throw myself upon the decision of this body—knowing as I do that their decisions are right and should be obeyed.”
He also bore his testimony in these words: “Friends and brethren my name is Cowdery, Oliver Cowdery. In the early history of this church I stood identified with [you.] I … handled with my hands the gold plates from which [the Book of Mormon] was translated. I also beheld the interpreters. That book is true. Sidney Rigdon did not write it. Mr. Spaulding did not write it. I wrote it myself as it fell from the lips of the prophet.” Even though Oliver came back, he lost his exalted place in the Church.

Elder L. Tom Perry said he and his wife would take walks around a pond to feel better when they were stressed. (See “Let Him Do It with Simplicity,” Ensign, Nov. 2008, 7.)

My wife and I, with the Area Presidency, recently accompanied Elder David A. Bednar to the dedication of the Port-au-Prince Haiti Temple. Our son Jorge, who came with us, said about his experience: “Amazing, Papa! As soon as Elder Bednar started with the dedicatory prayer, I could feel the room fill with warmth and light. The prayer added so much to my understanding of the purpose of a temple. It really is the house of the Lord.”

That first summer after I became a member of the Beehive class, Baur Dee Sheffield was asked to coach the girls’ softball team in our ward, along with teaching our class. So she also taught us on the softball field. Although she made us work hard at practices, no one ever wanted to miss. She helped us overcome weaknesses in our game by focusing on our strengths. Mistakes were overlooked, successes were praised, and over time we became quite good.
When competition began that summer, we won most of our games. Our one real rival was a neighboring ward, and the girls in that ward were very serious about softball. During our first game with them, in an effort to “psyche us out,” they openly made fun of our technique, our players—everything. A couple of our team members shot back some rather unfriendly remarks in return.
After the first inning, Baur Dee called us into a huddle and forbade us from saying one negative thing to any of our opponents. Reluctantly we obeyed. By the time the game ended, they had beaten us by one run and had also beaten us psychologically. Their derogatory comments had caused us to doubt our ability.
We stayed after the game that night as Baur Dee taught us what we needed to learn: to believe in ourselves and always to treat others with respect. She taught us how the Savior would have us act by challenging us to go home and memorize Matthew 5:44. She piqued our curiosity by not telling us what the scripture said, and I believe all of us, as soon as we arrived home, looked up the verse. I can still recite it from memory: “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.”

I had just started a new job and was trying to save money to serve a mission. As time went on, new employees were hired, and I was assigned to train a young woman about my age.
Maria (name has been changed), my new co-worker, was obviously concerned with her appearance. She conformed to the popular trend of wearing short skirts, dark makeup, and bold hairstyles, and she also had developed some bad habits, such as smoking. Despite our differences, Maria and I worked well together. She was pleasant to talk with, and time passed quickly when we were together.
One day at work she asked, “Raquel, do you ever go dancing?” I told her I attended dances at my church. She asked which church it was, and I explained that it is called The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and that its members are often called Mormons. Maria told me she had heard of the Mormons, but she didn’t know any of our beliefs. I was excited to share more about the Church with her, and I offered her a copy of the Book of Mormon, which she was happy to accept.
In time I invited her to attend the branch closest to her home. I was quite surprised when she accepted my invitation. We decided to meet at the train station the following Sunday so we could go to the meetings together.
Sunday arrived, and as my train approached the station where we were to meet, I peered out the window, looking for the Maria I knew from work. To my surprise, I saw instead a young lady whose skirt was modest and whose hair and makeup were all that could be asked of a Latter-day Saint young woman. But it was Maria!
I confess that I had doubted she would be there waiting for me, and I also doubted that the gospel would produce any changes in her life—inside or out.
We greeted each other and walked the 15 minutes to church. We went to Relief Society first, where Maria wanted to answer the questions and participate in everything the teacher asked us to do. She also enjoyed Sunday School and sacrament meeting. I introduced her to the sister missionaries, who invited her to hear the lessons, and Maria readily agreed.
A short time later we lost contact because she didn’t continue with her job. But it wasn’t long before I received an invitation to her baptism. I was disappointed I couldn’t attend, and again we lost contact.
After serving for nine months in the Argentina Mendoza Mission, I read in the local pages of the Liahona that Maria was serving in the Argentina Resistencia Mission. I started jumping for joy and immediately wrote to her.
In her reply she told me about her mission preparation. Her parents had not supported her desire to join the Church. Yet she had attended church and institute classes and had sacrificed much in order to serve a mission.
Many years have now passed, and Maria and I have seen each other again. She is a temple worker in the Buenos Aires Argentina Temple and is enjoying the love of her husband and children. She lives the gospel and radiates its light. Today her appearance reflects all that is in her heart, and although she does not know it, she has not only given me a special memory but has taught me a great principle—the gospel is for everyone. As members of the Church, we should not refrain from sharing our testimonies just because, in our judgment, a person’s appearance indicates he or she might reject our message.
Now, whenever I think about Maria, 1 Samuel 16:7 comes to mind: “Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature; … for the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.” Heavenly Father knows the hearts of His children, and to Him the heart is what matters.

Jessica stood on the sidewalk outside Sister Richards’s house, straddling her bike and staring with uncertainty at an open side gate that led to the Richardses’ backyard. Planting a summer garden wasn’t at the top of her list of fun things to do on an already-too-hot Saturday morning. In fact, it wasn’t anywhere on her list!
Besides, she told herself, she had never gardened in her life and had rarely attended Sister Richards’s Valiant 9 Primary class. She barely knew the others in the class, and when she did go to church, one of them—Karlie—never seemed to want to even be seen with her.
She wondered why she had said yes when Sister Richards invited her to help plant the vegetable garden. It was to be a service project, and what was grown would be shared with others in the neighborhood.
“If only it was something other than planting and tending a garden!” Jessica thought as she started to turn her bike around. She liked to help others, “but there will be other chances to—”
Jessica saw Karlie approaching. Karlie’s eyes avoided Jessica’s as she rode through the side gate.
As Jessica again started to turn her bike around, something else stopped her. This time it was her Primary teacher’s voice. “Jessica! I’m so glad you’ve come. We’re just about ready to start planting.”
“If only Sister Richards’s smile wasn’t so kind and genuine,” Jessica thought, “I could tell her I’ve changed my mind about wanting to help.”
“Everyone is here, dear,” her Primary teacher went on. “Tyler, Karlie, Daniel, Joseph, Allie, and Michael. For a couple of them, Jessica, it’s a first—the first time they’ve come to a Primary activity.” She winked as if sharing it in confidence. “I think they’re curious.” As Jessica hesitated, Sister Richards added, “All you need for our project is a caring heart and willing hands, and I happen to know that you have both.”
In the backyard, Jessica saw a nicely cultivated, rich-soiled plot of earth surrounded by children. She found herself recalling other words Sister Richards had said: “The Savior spent his whole life helping others. He even died for us. His message is as simple as the sacred hymn that declares it: ‘As I have loved you, Love one another’ (Children’s Songbook, 136).”
One afternoon a few weeks later, Jessica and Karlie found themselves on their knees side by side, thinning and weeding the tender, sprouting plants. Jessica came across a large weed that stubbornly held its place among young cornstalks. Try as she might, she could not pull it out. Suddenly Karlie grasped it, too. With one united tug, they jerked it out of the ground.
They giggled as they fell backward, their laughter dissolving into quiet, affectionate looks as they suddenly understood why they had avoided each other before. They simply had not known enough about each other to feel comfortable. Jessica flicked a piece of dirt off Karlie’s face, realizing as she did that they might become good friends. She smiled at Karlie.
“Are you going to Primary this Sunday?” Karlie asked.
“Are you?”
Karlie nodded.
Jessica smiled again. “Me, too.”
As the two girls brushed dirt off each other, Tyler stopped and blinked sweat from his eyes, and Michael paused to examine a blister. Sister Richards winked as she paraphrased a Book of Mormon scripture, “God will consecrate our afflictions for our gain (2 Ne. 2:2).”
Tyler grinned as he said, “Some cold lemonade would also help our afflictions. Hint, hint.”
“I’ll show you affliction!” Daniel playfully flung a handful of weeds at Tyler. Tyler tossed a few thinned carrots back at Daniel, but they missed and rained on Michael instead. By the time Sister Richards began to sprinkle them with a hose, everyone else had joined in.
As Jessica laughingly stepped back from the fun-filled fray to catch her breath, she found herself thinking back to that first, uneasy Saturday when she had straddled her bike in front of Sister Richards’s house. “So much has changed since then!” she thought. “Lots of things have grown, not just the vegetables. Our group has grown, too, because we’ve invited our other friends, and some of them aren’t even Church members. …”
“Are you all right, honey?” Sister Richards joined Jessica. “You look so far away.”
Jessica smiled at her Primary teacher. “I’m very all right, Sister Richards. I was just thinking. I didn’t know I could ever feel this good about what we’re doing.”
“You mean about taking time out for a little fun?”
“No—about planting and growing a sharing garden. And all our friends coming, too, and not just here but to Primary! And do you know what? That feeling keeps getting bigger, just like that corn over there.”
Sister Richards pulled Jessica close to her. Jessica looked up and saw that Sister Richards was crying.
Tyler and Lindsey, who was a longtime friend of Jessica’s and who was not a member of the Church, stopped playing upon seeing Sister Richards wipe her eyes. “We’re sorry, Sister Richards,” Tyler apologized. “We’ll stop horsing around and—”
“No, no, Tyler, it’s not that.” Not wanting to break Jessica’s confidence, Sister Richards simply said, “Haven’t you ever gotten anything in your eye before?”
A few short weeks later, as they picked, cleaned, and placed ripe vegetables into baskets for neighbors, Daniel paused to fan his hot face with a towel. Sister Richards told him with a grin, “The seeds of service are watered by the sweat of labor.” Daniel rolled his eyes and then grinned back.
Jessica smiled, thinking, “Yes, Sister Richards really does have a way with words.”
The group placed their produce in two worn red wagons and started down the street. At one stop, they made their way up a little flowered walkway to the door of an elderly widow. The house was small and seemed forlorn. When the door opened, Jessica and the others offered the old woman a small sack with several different vegetables in it. The smile of sweet surprise that rippled across her wrinkled face squeezed tears not only from her eyes but from some of the children’s as well.
As they started back down the walkway, Tyler told Joseph, who had playfully poked him, “What’s the matter, haven’t you ever gotten anything in your eye before—like ‘the sweat of labor’?”
One afternoon after giving away that day’s harvest, the empty wagons rattling behind them, Sister Richards started to sing, “‘By this shall men know Ye are my disciples—’”
The children helped her finish it, “‘If ye have love One to another.’”
Sister Richards asked them, “So how do you feel?”
Michael fanned his face with his hand. “It’s hot, but I still feel good.”
“Doing good makes you feel good,” Allie reasoned aloud, “no matter what else doesn’t.”
“And right now”—Tyler grinned at his Primary teacher—“I believe some of your cold lemonade will make feeling good feel even better!”
Sister Richards grinned back at Tyler as she ruffled his hair. “Such wisdom for one so young!”

Amid all that seemed different to us in Bahrain—the veiled women, open-air markets, and richness and luxury contrasting with the ancient life-style of the desert—we found the warm familiarity of fellow Latter-day Saints. With three other western families, we were part of a group of eight adults and eight children who held Church weekly meetings. Services are held on Friday in Muslim countries because that day is their Sabbath; Sunday is simply the second day of a six-day work week.
The group in Bahrain was organized into a branch in 1978, with Brother Sidney MaGill, a native of New Mexico, as the first branch president. With the arrival of other Latter-day Saints, it has since grown to thirty-five members.

The talk turned to racing accidents. David said that though he has fallen twice during a race, he has never broken a bone. “In one of the races my mount stumbled just out of the gate. I was still rolling in a tight ball when the rest of the horses went past. I was clipped a couple of times, but nothing serious happened. Another time I went down when I was in front and slid on my head along the track. I wasn’t hurt too badly, just bruised, and my neck was sore for a few days. None of the horses hit me.”