Gospel Story Finder

My name is Skyy Elizabeth, and I will be baptized when I turn eight. When I was four years old, I was sealed to my parents, and I still remember that happy, special day. I have a baby sister named Olivia, and I love to sing Primary songs to her all the time. I love my family very much! The Friend helps me choose the right and learn how to make smart choices, even when something is hard to do. It also helps me learn Primary songs even better. I love to look for my own magazine in the mail each month.
Skyy S., age 7, California, USA

During my childhood, I stayed with my grandmother, who taught me about the existence of Heavenly Father and His love for us. I had challenging times during my childhood, but what she taught me continues to echo, anchoring my belief that Heavenly Father loves me.

Practices went on for months in the individual stakes, with leaders traveling from one group to the other to make sure that all of them were doing the dances the same way. Months and months of man-hours were involved. And it all came together on Tuesday morning, July 23.
The 2,000 young people met with Johnny Whitaker, the D’s, the Grandland Singers, and the leaders, and they took a million pieces of puzzle and created a beautiful, finished product. They rehearsed all day.
“And it worked,” said Bruce Nelson of the Spokane Stake. “One of the greatest experiences happened when we performed for the first time on Tuesday evening. Everything came off like it was planned. It was really fantastic! The theme of the whole thing was ‘Catch a Happy Feeling!’ And we caught it!” And so did those who came to observe. Favorable comments were heard on every side, and the young performers’ enthusiasm grew as the 24th and their second performance approached.

One rainy fall day, I went into my attic and noticed a leak. Water dripped off the ends of roofing nails between two sets of rafters. Years before, I had done many repairs to my home and wasn’t afraid to attempt new projects. But at this time I was facing personal struggles and lacked confidence. I didn’t feel like I had the emotional strength to deal with the leak, even though I knew something needed to be done before winter came.
A week or two later, I got on my roof with a utility knife, a putty knife, and a caulking gun loaded with roofing tar. I figured I just needed to find the source of the leak and cover it with gooey tar. But I had no idea where the source was. I felt discouraged. I paused and said a prayer, asking the Lord to direct me to the right spot so I could fix the leak. I expected Him to just show me the spot. Instead, one word came to my mind: investigate.
This wasn’t the answer I wanted, but I began to look around. My eyes focused on a vent. I tore off two small shingles by the vent and saw what looked like the source of a leak. I cut out old, dry tar and applied a liberal amount of new tar. I replaced the shingles, and in less than one hour I had completed the job. My depressed spirits were lifted, and I felt good about myself for what I had done to solve the problem. During the next rain, I looked in the attic for leaks and found it dry!
I thought of Oliver Cowdery, who had “[taken] no thought save it was to ask” (D&C 9:7). Like him, I had expected the Lord to simply give me a quick answer to my prayer with no effort on my part. And I thought about how much my spirits were lifted when I had to put forth my own effort to “study it out” (D&C 9:8)—to investigate. I learned that the Lord will not do everything for us. He will help and guide us, but we are also expected to do what we can on our own because this brings personal growth.

My mom was driving the school bus one morning. When we drove up to one of the bus stops, a little boy named Adam was standing there crying. He didn’t want to get on the bus. His dad tried everything he could think of to help him be less afraid, and Adam finally got on. But he sat down and kept right on crying. I asked my mom if I could change seats, and she said yes. I sat by Adam and sang happy songs to him. He stopped crying. I felt very happy.

I remember reading several years ago of a man who had gone into the wilderness area of the state of Montana with a companion on a big game hunt. The hunters came upon a grizzly bear at rather close range, and one of the men fired at the bear and wounded it. In a rage the huge animal charged the hunters. One of them, in panic and in a desperate attempt to save himself, climbed into the lower branches of a small tree close by. The tree was not large enough to support the man’s weight and hold him beyond the reach of the bear’s powerful claws and jaws. Before his companion could destroy the bear, it had inflicted such serious injuries on the treed hunter that it was necessary to amputate both his legs in order to save his life.

Shellie and her friends were sitting on her front porch talking.
“My daddy makes people well,” Cindy said. “He’s the most important daddy in the whole world!”
“Oh, no,” answered Robert. “My daddy’s the most important daddy in the whole world. He puts out fires!”
“Well, I think my daddy’s the most important,” said Henry. “He teaches school!”
Shellie sat and listened to her friends talk about their dads, but she didn’t say anything.
My daddy must be important, she thought, but I don’t know why.
That evening after supper Shellie’s daddy sat down on the couch to read the newspaper.
Shellie went over and cuddled up next to him.
“Daddy, is your work important?” she asked.
Daddy thought for a moment. “Yes, Shellie, my work is very important.”
“Is it more important than making people well or putting out fires or teaching school?”
Daddy thought again. “Let’s just say it’s as important,” he replied, “but not more important.”
Shellie frowned a little bit. She wanted her daddy to be the most important daddy in the whole world.
“Hey, I see a frowny face,” said Daddy. “It looks like this.” Then he made a big frowny face that was so funny Shellie laughed out loud.
“Do you know what I do to people who have frowny faces?” asked Daddy. “I tickle them.”
Shellie tried to wiggle away, but she was too late. Daddy tickled her ribs and then he tickled her chin.
“What happened to that frowny face?” Daddy asked.
Shellie laughed and laughed. She looked at Daddy’s happy face and thought, My daddy is the most important daddy in the whole world because he makes me happy!
Then Shellie put her arms around her daddy’s neck and said, “I love you!”

It took nearly a year for Helio da Rocha Camargo, a former minister in another church, to decide to be baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. A short while later, his wife, Nair Belmira da Rocha Camargo, decided to follow her husband’s example and be baptized as well.
At that time, Nair was pregnant with the couple’s son, whom they would name Milton. The Camargos’ unified decision to join the Church would forever bless future generations of their family.

Can you imagine a 25-hour-long meeting that was actually a good experience? Young men and women in the Madison Third Ward, Madison Wisconsin Stake, can. They met together on a holiday weekend—all day Friday and Saturday—to read the entire Book of Mormon.
They met at a leader’s home and read from 9:00 in the morning until 9:00 at night, stopping only long enough to say the blessing over dinner. After that, the young men camped out there, and the young women spent the night at a neighbor’s house. They reconvened the next morning for a similar schedule.
But there was no excited cheer when the last verse was read: “I bid unto all, farewell … until … I am brought forth triumphant through the air, to meet you before the pleasing bar of the great Jehovah, the Eternal Judge of both quick and dead. Amen” (Moro. 10:34). The evening ended with a very solemn and united “Amen.”

Charles C. Rich, on April 7, 1863, spoke of the need for a tabernacle in which to meet. He declared: “What shall I say in regard to the Tabernacle? We can see at once that we can enjoy … the blessings of such a house at the present time. If we put it off, when will it be built? When that house is built we can then enjoy the benefits and blessings which it will afford. The same principle may be applied to everything we take in hand, and with which we have to do, whether it be to build a Temple, … a Tabernacle, to send teams to the frontiers to gather the poor, or … do any other work that is required of us. Nothing that is required will be performed until we go to work and do something ourselves. We have no other people to lean upon, and therefore it remains for us to go to work and perform well our part.”
They went to work!

When we live providently, we are also in a better position to help others. In the Solo Branch in Indonesia, sisters set aside a spoonful of rice every time they cooked, then gave that rice each week to people in need. Even though these Indonesian sisters had an average income of only $140 per year, they were able to bless each other by wise planning.

President Daniel Allotey, stake president of the Ghana Kasoa Stake, knows that it is indeed his religious responsibility to consider how to strengthen and support the young single adults in his stake. President Allotey and his counselors prayerfully began to study President Nelson’s direction and counsel. The stake presidency received answers to their prayers and knew that their focus needed to be on YSA gathering places. This meant asking members to make sacrifices to serve with the YSA.
President Allotey shared, “Having the desire to be perfectly aligned with the prophet brings light and revelations to the mind and heart and rekindles the energy and ability to do what may seem impossible. Upon the authorization of gathering places by the Brethren, and prayerfully seeking to understand the vision, I felt the calm assurance within my heart, and I knew for certain this is the Lord’s answer and perfect solution to the YSA dilemma my stake has been trying to solve for many years. To organize the gathering place with no supporting budget became the real test of our faith. We knew that if we would take that faithful step, the Lord would make a way for us” (see 1 Nephi 3:7).

Becoming emotional when talking about his testimony, Elder Haynie said he first read and marked the Book of Mormon when he was 12. “I don’t have a memory of not believing; I don’t have a memory of not praying.”

June pushed as Grandpa pulled the old red wagon up and down the long rows of vegetables. Grandpa stooped to inspect a knee-high, leafy green plant. “June, here are some nice big green peppers. Do you think that they are ready to pick?”
June stooped down to look. “Yup.” She carefully picked one and held it up to Grandpa for final approval.
“Yup,” Grandpa agreed. “Just right.”
June smiled and picked two more. She carefully placed them next to the corn in the wagon. The wagon was almost full, but there were still cucumbers, green beans, and squash to harvest.
She beamed as she looked at the beautiful fresh vegetables in the wagon. There were big red tomatoes, ears of yellow corn, orange carrots, leafy green lettuce, red radishes, and now, big green peppers.
Grandpa and June had planted the big garden in the spring. First they got the soil ready. Next, June helped Grandpa plant seeds in little holes. Then they carefully covered them with dirt.
After the seeds were covered, she helped Grandpa sprinkle the rich, dark soil with water. Up and down the long rows they went, digging and planting and watering.
They had also put in some small plants. “If we plant these instead of seeds, we’ll get vegetables sooner,” Grandpa explained. “I just can’t wait to pop a ripe tomato into my mouth!” Grandpa loved tomatoes.
Together June and Grandpa watered their garden almost every day. Grandpa put on his big black irrigating boots, and June tugged on her little blue rubber puddle hoppers. It was fun walking up and down the long rows, getting their boots muddy while they made sure that each plant got enough to drink.
Grandpa and June spent a lot of time weeding the long rows of vegetables, too. “Weeds drink up all the water,” Grandpa explained. “Now what is this I see?”
June squatted next to Grandpa to have a look. “Does it look like the plants around it?” Grandpa asked.
June compared the green plant to those near it. “Nope.”
“Weed or vegetable?”
“Weed,” June stated firmly and pulled it out with a hard jerk.
“Yup,” Grandpa said with a big smile, “you sure are a good gardener.”
June looked up at Grandpa. “Wow, Grandpa, we sure have lots of vegetables!”
“Yup, with lots more to come!” He unloaded the last acorn squash from the wagon onto the back porch. He sat down and wiped his forehead with his little red handkerchief. “Well, June, do you think we can eat all these vegetables ourselves?”
“Nope. We couldn’t eat that many in a hundred years.”
“You’re right,” Grandpa replied with a chuckle. “Well then, what do you think we should do with them all? I hate to waste any of our hard work.”
June thought a moment. She was proud of the vegetables and didn’t want to waste any, either. “I know! Let’s share them!”
“Now, that’s what I call a good idea! But who do you think would want some?”
June didn’t have to think very hard. “Sister Rencher doesn’t have a garden since she can’t bend down to pull weeds anymore. I bet she would like some.”
“Yup,” said Grandpa thoughtfully. “Who else?”
June’s mind was working fast. “Sister Rice works all day. She doesn’t have time to plant and care for a garden.”
“Good thinking, June. And the Sorenson’s next door don’t have room in their yard for a garden. I bet they would like some.”
“May we give some vegetables to my Primary teacher, Sister Johnson?” June asked. “I know she would like them.”
“Yup,” Grandpa said. “Now, how many people is that?”
June counted on her fingers. “Sister Rencher is one. Sister Rice is two. The Sorensons are three, and Sister Johnson makes four.”
Grandpa scratched his gray head. “How can we get all these vegetables to all those people?”
“I know! I know!” She jumped up and went into the house. Soon she was back, carrying four big brown grocery sacks. “We can put vegetables in a different sack for each person!”
“That’s a great idea,” Grandpa said. Together June and Grandpa thoughtfully chose vegetables for each person and carefully put them into the sacks.
“How can we get the sacks of vegetables to the people?” Grandpa asked.
“Can we take them in our wagon?”
“Yup. I think that will work.” Grandpa said. “You always have such good ideas! Now, who should we visit first?”
“The Sorensons. They’re the closest.”
Later, June held Grandpa’s hand as they pulled the empty wagon home. They had delivered all their vegetables. June’s small hand felt warm and secure inside Grandpa’s big one. She felt good inside.
“Grandpa, it’s sure fun to plant a garden. It’s even more fun to weed and water it. But do you know what’s the most fun of all?”
“What?”
“Sharing the vegetables.”
“Yup,” said Grandpa with a big smile.

Something else happened recently that made me give even more thought to the concept of handling other people’s property with integrity. A friend came to me to discuss in confidence a personal problem. Even more than advice, he needed someone to listen to him as he talked through the situation. He would have been embarrassed if the things I learned had become known to others, and he was counting on me not to violate his trust.

Let me close by relating an experience that occurred a few years ago, again in the islands. It will demonstrate the universality of the basic premise that we began with—that all people do have a mission and they can perform it no matter where they are or under what circumstances they may live. As I conclude with that story and testimony, let us reevaluate our lives and make sure that we are doing with them what the Lord would have us do.

Years ago as a young missionary, I was impressed by an older island couple who always seemed to be helping the missionaries and others. Every time I went to their home I would find them reading the scriptures or fixing a meal for a missionary or tending a neighbor’s child or preparing a Relief Society lesson or rendering some sort of service. They were not blessed with children of their own, but they were always helping so-called “outcast” children.

I was soon moved to another area and left for home without ever returning to that area. I often wondered about that couple who had so impressed me. I was sure the Lord would bless them.

Years later I was again in the area as the mission president when a messenger asked if I would visit a certain elderly widow named Luisa. Upon inquiring, I realized that it was the family I had wondered about all of these years. Her husband had obviously passed away; and as the messenger gave me the address, I realized she was still in the same old house she had been in those many years before. Of course we made arrangements to visit her.

It was late afternoon when we drove up to the home. I was surprised to realize that hardly anything had changed. It was a neat, clean home, but a very humble one. As I walked up to the house I noticed her waiting by the open door. She held her hand out in a slightly waving fashion. Then I realized that she had gone blind. As I took her in my arms, I realized also that she had not long to stay in this life as there was nothing but the frailest body of skin and bones.

We sat and visited, and she talked about her desire to help the “poor” people. I suggested that she may need some help herself. She kindly informed me that she was rich and had nothing to worry about.

I was a little confused and began to inquire. I found that she and her husband had often saved money to pay their air fare to the temple only to end up lending it to someone else who needed it more. When all the facts came out, I said to her, “Luisa, how can you say you don’t have anything to worry about? You have no husband, you have no children, you’re blind, you are in poor health, you live in a poor home, you haven’t been to the temple. How can you say you’re rich?”

Then she stopped all of my questions by quietly informing me that she was rich because she knew the Lord was pleased with her life. She said, “I know I will be with my husband soon. I know the Lord will bless us with a family. I may not have done all that I could, but I know that the Lord is pleased with what I have done.”

I cannot express fully what happened at that time. However, I would like you to ponder Doctrine and Covenants 6:7, wherein the Lord says, “Seek not for riches but for wisdom, and behold, the mysteries of God shall be unfolded unto you, and then shall you be made rich. Behold, he that hath eternal life is rich.” [D&C 6:7]

Luisa had taken the time to discover her mission and calling in life and had done whatever was necessary to fulfill it. She had obtained the “wisdom” spoken of.

In 1956, after graduating from Kumamoto University Medical College, he visited Tokyo Women’s Medical College and saw heart surgery being performed.

He was so impressed by it that he decided to become a heart surgeon. It took five years of intensive training. During that time, he visited New York City for research purposes. Before he left Tokyo, one of Brother Nakamura’s friends told him that on his way back to Japan, he should travel across the United States to see Salt Lake City, Utah, and the beautiful Mormon temple.

Although Brother Nakamura was unable to visit Salt Lake City, his friend’s words were influential in changing his life.

“I remembered his reference to Salt Lake City and the Mormons when, in April 1971, two young men came to my home in Kumamoto and said, ‘We are Mormons.’ I was interested in hearing what they had to say; although, as a doctor, I had always thought that I didn’t need religion. I felt there was no need to ask help from Buddha or from God.”

I have been faced with this situation. After a while, the young man I was fellowshipping lost interest and wasn’t willing to put forth the effort to learn the gospel. I knew he was investigating the Church for the wrong reasons. However, I still pray for him and hope that someday he will join the Church.
Leandra E. Acevedo, 17Atlanta, Texas

Some people said Richard wouldn’t find a job if he served a mission. But Richard was hired as an engineer for the first nuclear-powered submarine. He said, “The Lord blessed me as I put my priorities straight.”

I have many memories of my boyhood days. Anticipating Sunday dinner was one of them. Just as we children hovered at our so-called starvation level and sat anxiously at the table with the aroma of roast beef filling the room, Mother would say to me, “Tommy, before we eat, take this plate of food I’ve prepared down the street to Old Bob, and then hurry back.”

I could never understand why we couldn’t first eat and later deliver his plate of food. I never questioned aloud but would run down to his house and then wait anxiously as Bob’s aged feet brought him eventually to the door. Then I would hand him the plate of food. He would present to me the clean plate from the previous Sunday and offer me a dime as pay for my services. My answer was always the same: “I can’t accept the money. My mother would tan my hide.” He would then run his wrinkled hand through my blond hair and say, “My boy, you have a wonderful mother. Tell her thank you.”

You know, I think I never did tell her. I sort of felt Mother didn’t need to be told. She seemed to sense his gratitude. I remember, too, that Sunday dinner always seemed to taste a bit better after I had returned from my errand.3