Gospel Story Finder

Sugar Creek was the first camp the pioneers made after they left their warm, comfortable homes in Nauvoo. Within two weeks it was filled with five thousand people, who were waiting for the signal from Brigham Young before going forward on their journey “out west.”
To Tommy and Betsy it was like living in a city, for the tents and wagons were placed along streets as their houses had been in Nauvoo. Between each was a space roofed over with brush to protect it from the weather. There the meals were prepared, and there the children played.
In the center of the camp was a big square, something like a park. On one side of it Tommy and Betsy lived in their covered wagon. Anytime during the day or night they could look out onto the square and see campfires burning and people standing nearby trying to get warm.
One morning, very early, Tommy saw Brigham Young on a wagon box in the center of the square. A moment later his voice boomed out over the camp like a giant cannon: “Attention, Camp of Israel!” And Tommy knew that within minutes everyone in camp would come to the square to hear what Brigham Young would say.
“I hope he tells us that it is time to move on out west,” said Tommy.
“I hope so, too,” said Mother.
But Brigham Young said nothing about going out west. Instead, he said that during the past few days eight hundred men had arrived at Sugar Creek without enough food to last a week, and he asked those who had food to divide with those in need. He promised that if the Saints would do this, the Lord would bless them with all the food they needed.
President Young urged the men to go to the towns on the north and on the south to ask for work building roads, building bridges, or putting up fences; he also suggested that pay be made in food. He reported that featherbeds, watches, dishes, shawls, silverware, and furniture could be traded for corn and wheat.
Tommy and Betsy were especially interested when he told the children they could help by gathering willows from the creek bed to weave into bushel and half-bushel baskets that could be traded for food.
Immediately following Brigham Young’s “Amen,” and even before there was talking or moving around, the people heard the faraway sound of a bell ringing.
“It’s the bell in the temple tower at Nauvoo,” Tommy whispered to Betsy, and to him it was as if the Lord were giving his own “Amen” to the words his prophet had spoken. In the quiet of his own heart, Tommy promised that he would try to do all Brigham Young wanted him to do.
When the meeting was over, Tommy’s father gathered his family around him and said, “We’re beginning a long journey. We’re not even sure where it will end. We only know that the Lord will lead us there. We know also that all we’ll have is what we take with us. Now the problem is, shall we give the food we brought with us to those in need, or shall we save it for ourselves so we can be sure of having enough?”
Tommy remembered the quiet promise he had made. “President Young has asked us to share,” he said, “and I think that is what the Lord wants us to do.”
“I know the Lord will help us get more when we need it,” added Betsy.
Tommy’s father smiled. “I’m glad you feel that way,” he said. “We can’t blame the Saints for coming here without enough food. No one was really ready to leave Nauvoo now, for everyone expected not to leave until spring. Some had money to buy food and equipment, but most of them didn’t, so they had to trade their farms and houses for whatever they could get for them. Brother Johnson, for example, traded his house for only a covered wagon and a yoke of oxen. There was no money to buy food, so they just brought what they had, and I’m sure it will be gone in a few days.”
“He’ll go to a nearby town to find work to buy food,” added mother.
“Are you going, Father?” asked Tommy.
“Yes, Brother Johnson and I are going together,” Father answered. “We’ll leave in the morning.”
“You can take my silver spoons with you,” Mother offered. “I think you can trade them for a wagonload of corn to keep our animals alive and strong until the grass starts to grow.”
“You can take our featherbed,” said Betsy. “I know someone will want that.”
“I’ll gather willows in the creek bed and weave them into baskets, like President Young asked us to do,” said Tommy.
All were so interested in listening to each other that no one noticed Sister Johnson, who had been standing just outside of the covered wagon. They were surprised when she spoke. “You can take my shawl,” she said quietly, “and the little sugar bowl my grandmother gave me.”
As she brought the items inside the wagon, she teetered as if she were going to fall. Tommy’s father jumped off the wagon to help her. “Are you ill?” he asked.
“No,” she answered, “but I am hungry. We haven’t had much to eat the last two days.”
Tommy’s mother hurried to help Sister Johnson lie down. “Munch on this sea biscuit,” she insisted, “while I fix you some hot mush.”
Later Tommy and Betsy and their father went back with Sister Johnson to her wagon. Tommy carried some potatoes, his father some flour, and Betsy a pail of milk.
As she carried the milk, Betsy thought of her kitten she had left in Nauvoo. In her mind she again heard her mother ask, “You wouldn’t want anyone to go hungry just so you could have you kitten along, would you?”
Betsy smiled and said, “No,” very quietly to herself. And this time she meant it for sure!

One morning, as soon as all six canoes were loaded and launched, the group met in the middle of the lake. The girls held on to the gunnels of neighboring canoes as maps were unfolded and the course for the day discussed. According to the map there seemed to be two choices. Either they could paddle across the lake, unload, and hike across a 120-rod portage, or they could stay in their canoes and attempt to paddle up a small stream to the neighboring lake.
To the girls there seemed to be no question—anything to get out of unloading the canoes and portaging. Stake President Hennebry, who along with his counselors were accompanying the girls as priesthood advisers, pointed out some potential problems. Nobody in the group had been this way before. No one was absolutely sure that the stream on the map would be wide enough to handle a canoe. The portage was steep and difficult, but it was a sure thing. It was the group’s decision. They would take a vote.
The thought of missing a long, hard portage was enticing. The majority was willing to take a chance on what seemed to be the easier route, the stream.
When the first canoe reached the mouth of the stream, it was blocked by a beaver dam. “No problem,” said Andrea Miles, Karen Johnson, and Ganine Conner, “we’ll pull our canoe over the dam and scout on ahead and see what the stream looks like.”
It was deceiving. Because of the beaver dam, the stream widened into a pond and looked at first like it was going to be the easy route everyone hoped it would be. All six canoes were lured in, and they followed the twisting, curving stream. Another beaver dam was crossed, then another. The stream was getting so narrow that the canoeists could hardly fit a paddle between the edge of the canoe and the bank.
The stream became shallow, and the girls had to get out and walk. At first, everyone tried to keep her shoes dry, but as one by one they slipped off of dry footing and into the sticky mud, they gave up and tried to wade. The mud was waist deep, and they had to tow the canoes behind them. The sucking, gooey mud pulled at each leg with every step. They abandoned any hope of staying clean and dry. But where was the next lake? Wouldn’t it be around the next curve, or the next? Finally their leaders said that it was hopeless. The stream was becoming nothing more than a swamp, and still the lake was nowhere in sight.
Tired, muddy, and discouraged, the girls turned their canoes around and started back the way they came. Only it was harder getting out than it had been getting in. They had broken the beaver dams during their entrance, and the water had drained out of the ponds leaving them high, but certainly not dry.
After slogging through a mile or so of mud, the last canoe was again back at the starting point. After rinsing off and climbing back in their canoes, the group gathered for a moment of thought. They had wasted the whole morning in a useless attempt to find an easy way. Now they would have to turn around and take the long portage, the trail so clearly marked that would take them to the next lake. The comparisons to life were only too obvious. As the girls tried to clean up a bit, rest, and eat lunch, they were subdued as they thought about their experience. Slowly, they began to draw analogies to their own lives.
Sister Rice, the Young Women president said, “Much of the time we think we can gamble and take the easy way, but it often gives us nothing but grief. We became mired down so we could hardly move, but we repented of our decision and turned around. It was hard just getting back to where we had started from. If we had been wise, we would have taken the ‘straight and narrow’ way, the portage, and been ahead.”
Later at the last night fireside, President Hennebry again reminded the girls of their experience. “You’ve experienced something you can relate to life. But on this trip you can remember the experience without remembering the pain. Satan has a map which marks what seems to be the easy way that will still get you where you want to go. It’s an attractive lie. Just like our experience in the swamp. At first the barriers were easy to cross, but it made it so much harder to come out. In life if you find that you have chosen the wrong stream, no matter how hard it is, repent and come back.”
The lesson on making decisions was a valuable one. The girls learned from it and remembered. Throughout the rest of the trip, if anyone jokingly asked, “Hey, there’s a stream on this map. Do you think we ought to try it?” they would be shouted down with a loud, “No, thanks.”
After returning the canoes to the outfitter, washing their faces in the luxury of hot running water out of a tap, and combing their hair in front of a real mirror, the Summiteers spread out a map and mentally retraced their route.
When their fingers stopped at Gebeonequet Lake and the stream that went nowhere, they made a resolve. On future canoe trips and in their own lives, they would follow the correct paths. And because of their associations with fine leaders and advisers and by relying on their Heavenly Father, they knew that their feet would be guided as was promised in the scriptures.
“I will lead them in paths that they have not known: I will make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight. These things will I do unto them, and not forsake them” (Isa. 42:16).

Members of my seminary class often share missionary experiences. But one time, two months had gone by since anyone shared, so I thought it was time to make a move. I prayed to Heavenly Father, saying that if He would let me have a missionary experience that day at school, I’d do everything in my power to teach others as much about the gospel as I possibly could. The first question came from my locker partner and close friend, Tabitha.
“Are Mormons Christians?” she asked.
“Of course I’m a Christian!” I cheerfully responded, “I believe in Jesus. Did you know that the actual name of my church is The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints?” Then we talked a little more.
Throughout the day it seemed like people flooded me with questions.
The next day, as I related my stories to my seminary class, I knew that I’d have missionary moments as long as I desired them.

Nearly 20 years ago, our fifth son, Benjamin, was born. My wife sensed that something wasn’t right with Benjamin’s eyes. We consulted a close friend and retinal specialist in our ward, who confirmed our concerns and diagnosed Benjamin’s condition as retinal blastoma, a rare form of cancer of the eye. The news was devastating.

A few weeks later, Benjamin was to have the first of many surgical treatments. Prior to the operation we met with the surgeon and told him that we believed that he would find that Benjamin’s eye would be healed and not need to be removed. Our entire family and many ward members were fasting and praying for our son, and we had great faith that Benjamin would be healed.

An hour later, the surgeon returned and confirmed that Benjamin’s eye had been destroyed by the tumor cells and that his other eye also had several serious tumors that needed immediate treatment. I was speechless. Completely overcome with grief and disbelief, I walked out of the hospital into the damp San Francisco morning and began to walk, weeping bitterly.

I had done everything I had been taught to do. We had prayed and received a strong impression to select this doctor. We had fasted and prayed and felt certain that our infant son would be healed through faith and through the power of the priesthood. Yet the Lord had not intervened. Our faith it seems had been no more than vain hope. I began to question everything I had ever believed. As I walked, I felt betrayed and angry. I was overcome with pain.

I am not proud of the conversation I had with Heavenly Father as I walked and wept that morning. After a time, I got hold of myself emotionally. I remember the words of a children’s Primary song coming into my mind. “Heavenly Father, are you really there? And do you hear and answer every child’s prayer?” Because you clearly haven’t been listening to mine or maybe you just don’t really care about me and my son. (“A Child’s Prayer,” Children’s Songbook, 12.)

In that moment, a tender mercy came. In my mind and heart, I felt these words: “Kevin, he is my son too.” The clarity of the prompting was unmistakable. I realized in that moment that I had not understood the purpose of prayer at all. I had assumed that, just because I had a righteous cause, I could use the priesthood and fasting and prayer to change the will of God.

For the first time in my life, I fully realized that I was not in charge. I knew that I needed to submit to Heavenly Father’s will. I couldn’t have what I wanted when and how I wanted it just because I was keeping the commandments. The purpose of prayer was not to tell Heavenly Father what to do, rather to find out what He would have me do and learn. I needed to align my will with His.

We would face another six years of serious challenges as we battled our little son’s condition to save his other eye and his life. But I now knew that Heavenly Father was aware and in charge. And no matter how things ultimately worked out, He had heard and answered my prayer. Today our miracle son is serving a full-time mission in Spain.

From one of the Richfield stakes the president writes: “We began seminars in the summer of 1977. We have conducted five seminars since. The results: 274 fellowshipping couples were called. 353 prospective elders and wives enrolled. 40 couples have been to the temple. 147 prospective elders completed the seminars and are now active. Many of the activated are in positions of leadership.”

Illustrated by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
Coach: You guys were awful! We’re holding an extra practice tomorrow, and I’m going to work you hard! If anybody has a problem with that, step forward.
Coach: What’s your beef, Matt?
Matt: Tomorrow’s Sunday.
Coach: I know the days of the week, Matt. What’s your point?
Matt: I go to church on Sunday.
Coach: All day?
Matt: No, but Sunday isn’t for work or play. It’s for thinking about Heavenly Father and for visiting the sick and stuff.
Coach: Your team is sick. Come visit us.
Matt: I guess I can’t explain it so you’ll understand. But I won’t be at practice tomorrow.
Coach: And your starting spot won’t be here next week.
Mandy: You’re quiet, Matt. Is it because you lost?
Matt: I’m not sure I did.

Barbados is a charming island belonging to the Lesser Antilles. On its beautiful beaches, as well as on other Caribbean islands, there are protection zones for sea turtles.
On a mission tour, we had the opportunity to visit the island. One morning, Norma and I went for a walk on the beach, which is in front of the hotel where we were staying. As we did, we saw one of the senior missionaries who was working on the side of the path that separates the beach from the road.
As we got closer, we asked her what she was doing. She told us: “A large turtle had spawned in that part of the beach. The tortoise had found a good place to lay its eggs. She covered them and then left.”
The challenge would be for the little turtles, who, at birth, would search for the ocean and a recently built pedestrian path that had left a slope, would be an impossible hurdle to avoid on their way to the ocean. On the other hand, during the night the little turtles would mistake the lights of the vehicles and the city for stars and when going towards them they would die either by the vehicles or by starvation going in the opposite direction of the ocean.
Inspired by the missionary, we set out to look for baby turtles. Some were trapped among the plants, others had died, and others were struggling to climb the causeway that separated them from the beach and the ocean. We rescued as many as we could. Some people passing by told us that what we were doing was a waste of time.
Later, in a service activity, the missionaries leveled that path so that in the future the turtles that were born could find their way to life.
Personally, I felt an indescribable joy at being able to hold a little turtle in my hands and put it on its way to the sea.

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.)

De Witt J. Paul, who is now serving as a mission president in California and who was an executive of one of the nation’s largest financial institutions, states:
“… Adhering to gospel standards has never stood in my way. Quite to the contrary, doing so has been an asset rather than a liability. Moreover, it has not been difficult or embarrassing.
“In a world of rather wishy-washy convictions, one who believes in something and lives in accordance with his beliefs is usually admired and respected. I never appreciated this so much as when the chairman of the board of directors of my company one day said to the board members: ‘I am retiring, and I propose Mr. Paul as my successor. As you know, Mr. Paul is a Mormon. Mormons have rather high standards to live by, and among other things they do not smoke or drink. I have kept an eye on this fellow for many years now, and never once have I seen him make a slip. I recommend him to you as a man of integrity. …’
“It is my experience that there are a lot of very fine people in the world. Just because they do not have my outlook on life has never given me reason to alienate them through prudish self-righteousness. Perhaps herein lies the secret of ‘living in the world without being a part of the world.’” (“Living in the World without Being a Part of the World,” De Witt J. Paul, Improvement Era, September 1965, p. 838.)

And now finally there are modern witnesses, for he came again to open this dispensation, the dispensation of the prophesied fulness of times. In a glorious vision, he—the resurrected, living Lord—and his Father, the God of heaven, appeared to a boy prophet to begin anew the restoration of ancient truth. There followed a veritable “cloud of witnesses” (Heb. 12:1), and he who had been the recipient—Joseph Smith, the modern prophet—declared with words of soberness:
“And now, after the many testimonies which have been given of him, this is the testimony, last of all, which we give of him: That he lives!
“For we saw him, even on the right hand of God; and we heard the voice bearing record that he is the Only Begotten of the Father—
“That by him, and through him, and of him, the worlds are and were created, and the inhabitants thereof are begotten sons and daughters unto God.” (D&C 76:22–24.)

President Hinckley said in a worldwide leadership training meeting: “I am convinced there is no other organization anywhere to match the Relief Society of this Church. It has a membership of more than five million women across the earth. If they will be united and speak with one voice, their strength will be incalculable. … It is so tremendously important that the women of the Church stand strong and immovable for that which is correct and proper under the plan of the Lord.”
I have pondered and studied this inspiring charge, and I have sought answers regarding how the women of this Church could fulfill President Hinckley’s challenge and promise. How can they speak with one voice and stand strong and immovable for those things which are correct and proper? Within the plan of the Lord there are specific things Latter-day Saint women must do because they are daughters of God, chosen to come to the earth at a time which has been called “a very difficult season in the history of the world.”
In order to do our part as women under the Lord’s plan, we must stand strong and immovable in faith, strong and immovable in family, and strong and immovable in relief. We must excel in these three important areas which set us apart as the Lord’s disciples. Through Relief Society we practice being disciples of Christ. We learn what He would have us learn, we do what He would have us do, and we become what He would have us become. When we gather with this focus, the work of Relief Society is relevant whatever your circumstance—whether you are 18 or 88, single or married, have children or not, or whether you live in Bountiful, Utah, or Bangalore, India.

How privately precious, for example, is Bishop Kesler’s confidential diary entry concerning his feelings about the Book of Mormon:
“(Oct. 20, 1874) Tarried at home, read considerable in the Book of Mormon which I am reading through By course. I enjoy much of the Spirit of the Lord while reading that book altho I have read it many times Before stil it allmost seems like a new book. I enjoy more of the spirit of the Lord while reading that Book than any other book that I ever read in all my life.”

Yet there stands the devil, the destroyer of this love, replacing it with anger and hostility. My friend William felt that way: hostile. It seemed that whatever happened, it was the Lord’s fault—an illness, a death, a wayward child, a personal weakness, an “unanswered” prayer—all of which hardened his heart. His inner anger, which could flare up in but a moment, was directed toward God, his fellowman, and himself. From his heart emanated unbelief, stubbornness, pride, contention, and a loss of hope, love, and direction. He was miserable!

These destroyers of peace blinded William to God’s feelings for him. He could neither discover nor feel God’s love. He did not see, especially in those dark moments, that God was richly blessing him even still. Instead, he returned anger for love. Have we not all felt that at times? Even when we have merited love the least, He has loved us the most. Truly, He loves us first.

The importance of not mistreating others is highlighted in an anecdote about Hillel the Elder, a Jewish scholar who lived in the first century before Christ. One of Hillel’s students was exasperated by the complexity of the Torah—the five books of Moses with their 613 commandments and associated rabbinic writings. The student challenged Hillel to explain the Torah using only the time that Hillel could stand on one foot. Hillel may not have had great balance but accepted the challenge. He quoted from Leviticus, saying, “Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.” Hillel then concluded: “That which is hateful unto you, do not do to your neighbor. This is the whole of the Torah; the rest is commentary. Go forth and study.”

For example, when we were leaving Zimbabwe, the plan was for my dad to go to Afghanistan for a year. The rest of my family would live with my mom’s parents. However, right before my dad left, we found out they weren’t sending anyone into Afghanistan for a while. That meant we wouldn’t be moving to live with family. As happy as I was to have my dad, this abrupt change was really hard for all of us.
I was mad, and unfortunately I took my anger out on Heavenly Father for a while. I remember praying one night and basically just yelling about why I was mad. But despite my anger, He helped me eventually humble myself and feel peace. It was like He was saying, “Whatever happens, good can come of it. Just trust me. I know it’s hard right now, but it’s all going to work out in the end.” I was able to calm down and think about things. I needed to learn to trust Heavenly Father and be OK with things not going according to my plan, because His plan is always better.

After my baptism in 2007, I was so happy. We started saving money to go to the temple in Hawaii, where my wife, our three children, and I were sealed in December 2008.

Up on the Housetop Christmas in Wind Valley, 1937, is an exciting time for the young girl who tells this story. And when she helps a struggling family and learns a secret about Santa Claus, she comes to understand what Christmas really means.Jean Z. Liebenthal10 years and up

Reflecting on my own life, I realize how I gained an appreciation for the core values that are necessary for the development of a sound character. Where did I learn loyalty, integrity, and dependability? I learned these qualities in the home from the example of my parents. How did I gain an appreciation for the value of selfless service? I did so by observing and enjoying my mother’s devotion to her family. Where did I learn honor and respect for daughters of God? I learned from the example of my father.
It was in the home that I learned principles of provident living and the dignity of work. I can still visualize my mother spending numerous nights at home, using a foot-treadle sewing machine to stitch shoes for a local shoe factory. This was not to enable her to purchase anything for herself but to help to provide financial support so that my brother and I could attend college. She later expressed how this act of service was a source of satisfaction for her.
My father was a wise, industrious man. He taught me how to cut timber using a handsaw, how to replace or attach a plug to a power cord of a domestic appliance, and many other practical skills.
All of these lessons carried a common theme: never be satisfied with anything less than your best efforts.
I developed the ability to make important decisions by talking with my parents and learning from their counsel. Add to the aforementioned accountability, consideration for others, and encouragement to pursue educational opportunities, and the list would still be incomplete.

When the book was translated, Joseph and Martin Harris took it to E. B. Grandin to be published. Five thousand copies were printed, and the books were ready for sale in the spring of 1830.

Last general conference, I was called by President Monson to be the new Young Women general president. As I stood in the presence of a prophet of God and was given this sacred trust, I pledged that I would serve with all my heart, might, mind, and strength. Prior to this calling, I had a small plate inscribed with a motto that read, “I can do hard things.” That little plate bearing that simple motto gave me courage. But now if I could change that motto, it would read: “In the strength of the Lord, I can do all things.” It is on that strength that I rely today as I stand at this sacred pulpit.