Gospel Story Finder

What can you do with five wooden cubes and five minutes?
That’s easy. Create a walking, talking Mormonad.
Instead of putting on road shows, the teens of the Ogden Utah Burch Creek Stake, took on the challenge of doing something different. They had a Mormonad night. The Young Women and Young Men leaders found that with such a large stake (11 wards and 600 young people), it would be impossible to get through regular road shows comfortably in one evening. So another kind of creativity took over.
“We presented the wards with the idea of putting on five-minute skits or commercials about gospel subjects. We got the idea from the Mormonads in the New Era” said Nila Dayton, stake cultural arts specialist. “We gave each ward five wooden cubes that they had to use in some way.” The cubes were big enough to sit or stand on and became the basis for the simple, portable scenery.
There were a few other rules as well. The wards were given just three weeks to prepare. This avoided the lengthy and exhausting preparations that sometimes go with road shows. The curtain would not be closed between skits, so all scenery and props had to be carried on and off with the actors. And each ward was encouraged to include a song and a dance.
How did it go? In most of the wards, the young people really took over. Andrew Noyes of the 74th Ward said, “About ten of us showed up to the planning meeting. We kept thinking of fun commercials and how we could change them. Then we started writing lyrics to go with a song. We were writing new verses right up to the night we had to put it on.”
“We liked being so involved,” said Kathryn Norton of the 77th Ward. “We liked having a say instead of the leaders doing so much of it.”
Nolan Godfrey of the 60th Ward said, “It was a lot easier and more relaxed.” His friend Andy Mair added, “There wasn’t as much stress because we were just doing it for fun.”
These teens know how much a clever jingle can stick in your mind. On this night, a few familiar tunes had new and improved lyrics. The Mormonad night was packed to the back of the cultural hall. The skits were fast and fun, and most important of all, they each made a good gospel point.

Elder David A. Bednar recalls a woman in his stake some years ago calling to request that he visit two young women who were being taken to the hospital following a horrific automobile accident. At that very moment, this sister received on another phone the terrible news that her own daughter had died from injuries sustained in the same accident. In a calm, deliberate voice, she said: “President Bednar, we must get in contact with the two other mothers. We must let them know as much as we can about the condition of their daughters and that they will soon be in the hospital.” Elder Bednar recalls that “there was no self-pity; … there was no turning inward. The Christlike character of this devoted woman was manifested in her immediate and almost instinctive turning outward to attend to the needs of other suffering mothers.” Elder Bednar observes, “Character is revealed … in the power to discern the suffering of other people when we ourselves are suffering; in the ability to detect the hunger of others when we are hungry; and in the power to reach out and extend compassion for the spiritual agony of others when we are in the midst of our own spiritual distress.”

Josh Escobedo of Pioche, Nevada, likes to build things. Working with his father throughout his life, Josh learned carpentry and roofing skills that would help him win awards and a college scholarship.
When Josh’s father passed away last year, Josh was glad he had stuck with his dad during the long, hot hours building and constructing homes and other structures. Not only had Josh acquired carpentry skills; he learned a lot about life.
“When I used to work with my father, I never thought I was learning much. It seemed like a drag at first. Later, I realized he just wanted to teach me how to work,” says Josh.
Josh also learned something else from his father—how to be a good example. At a Vocational Industrial Clubs of America competition in Washington, D.C., Josh had lots of opportunities to show others how strong his convictions are.
“My friend and I were with some of the other guys, and we ordered soft drinks. One by one, all of the other guys ordered that, too. I felt good because I was an influence that night,” says Josh.
Now preparing to leave for a mission, Josh is glad for all the challenges and trials he has faced, saying they have made him stronger. Part of that strength is Josh’s strong testimony.
“I love the Lord and what he does for me,” says Josh. “I’m glad I’ve read the Book of Mormon and for the strong foundation and example it gives.”

No one can accuse Corey Killpack of the Spencer Third Ward, Magna Utah East Stake, of being in over his head when it comes to swimming. At last year’s state high school swim meet, Corey received first place awards in the individual medley (50 yards of each of four strokes), the 100-yard butterfly, and was a member of the freestyle relay team that also placed first. Later that spring he finished 14th in the 200-yard butterfly at national competition in Austin, Texas. Although he usually spent four hours a day in practice (beginning at 4:45 A.M.), Corey also served as seminary president at Cyprus High School in Magna, and developed his skills in photography, tennis, and skiing.
Following a summer spent training in California, Corey and his teammates sent five copies of the Book of Mormon to people they met during their stay there. These same teammates were among those Corey swam with on the Cyprus High swim team, which placed first at the state meet. Of that successful group, Corey says, “Our unity as a team was largely dependent upon our similar motives and drives to serve the Lord.” Corey currently attends Brigham Young University and is preparing to serve a mission soon.

Brother Soliai and his family were the only Latter-day Saints in their little village of Nuuuli on Tutuila. On one occasion, he asked Opapo to come bless his children, his house, his property, and his friends. Present on that occasion was a wealthy nonmember widow, Salataima Puailoa, who was deeply troubled because her husband’s family was taking steps to deprive her of the land she had inherited from him. Impressed by the blessings, she requested one herself; but Opapo was reluctant because she was not a member.
She investigated the Church and was baptized, then came to him again and requested the blessing. In it, Opapo promised that she would receive the land without any hindrance from her husband’s relatives and that she would, if she were faithful, be an instrument in the Lord’s hands to further the work of the Church in American Samoa.
In the early 1950’s, that blessing was fulfilled. The Church purchased some of her property and on it built a high school, faculty housing, a large welfare farm, and a stake center.

“Mormons sometimes discriminate against other Mormons.”
This feeling was expressed in a recent rap between returned Latter-day Saint servicemen and institute students and faculty at Idaho State University. The returned servicemen were invited to talk to student and faculty leaders and tell them how they felt about the institute. The surface niceties were soon forgotten because these men were encouraged to talk frankly about their problems.
The result? A new program of help and encouragement and a resolution on the part of members of the Student Association to go out of their way to make any newcomer to the institute feel welcome.
The servicemen’s comments were accepted at face value by faculty and students alike. President Robert E. Thompson, president of the Idaho State University Stake, summed up the feelings of most when he said, “We have always felt that we were extending the hand of fellowship, that we were welcoming the returned servicemen, but when the truth came out, we found we were falling down. We didn’t realize that they needed something special, something extra. Whether we agree that their assessment of us is correct or not is not important. The important thing is, they feel they need something more and we are not providing it.”
As a result of this session, a special seminar is held regularly at the institute. Some twenty returned servicemen are now attending, and they have been assured that they are loved and wanted. Here they discuss everything from the gospel principles to career advice to how to combat the feeling that girls are afraid of them. During the seminar they are making friends and beginning to feel at home at the institute.
Discovering how any child of God should be treated was one benefit of the returned servicemen’s session and its resulting seminar. People now understand and practice the quintessence of the gospel. Once these wonderful principles were applied, the servicemen’s seminar became a living, breathing part of the Student Association at Idaho State University. At the same time it promises to be a very important missionary tool.

The words God, Heavenly Father, and Jesus Christ were almost never mentioned in my home when I was growing up. My father didn’t really believe in God, and my mother didn’t attend the Christian church in which she had been baptized. When I was six, I wanted to go to church, but my parents decided not to allow me. To remedy my disappointment, I decided to hold my own church services on Sundays.
My knowledge of church and prayer was limited to what I knew from television and stories my friends had told me. The first thing I thought I needed was a Bible. I knew the Bible was a large book with a lot of important words and stories in it. We didn’t have a Bible, so I used the thing we had that fit the description best—the Encyclopaedia Britannica Junior. My congregation consisted of my stuffed animals and dolls. However, my church eventually dissolved, as reading from an encyclopedia can be very frustrating for a six-year-old. Though my church was over, my prayers to God continued.

For another example, take Willard Richards—an educated man who, when Joseph and Hyrum Smith surrendered themselves to the governor of Illinois and were placed in Carthage Jail, was among a handful of men who went with them. By the afternoon of 27 June 1844, most had been sent to take care of certain matters of business, leaving only John Taylor and Willard Richards with the Prophet and his brother Hyrum. That afternoon following dinner, the jailer, knowing of the mob outside, suggested that they would be safer in the cell of the jail. Turning to Willard Richards, Joseph asked, “If we go into the cell will you go with us?” To this Elder Richards responded:
“Brother Joseph, you did not ask me to cross the river with you … you did not ask me to come to Carthage … you did not aske me to come to jail with you—and do you think I would forsake you now? But I will tell you what I will do; if you are condemned to be hung for ‘treason,’ I will be hung in your stead, and you shall go free.” (B. H. Roberts, A Comprehensive History of the Church, 2:283.)
Strong and intelligent men do not demonstrate that kind of love for an imposter or a fraud. That kind of love comes of God and the recognition of integrity in men. It is an expression of the spirit and reflects the example of the Savior, who gave his life for all men and who declared, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13.)

President Wheelwright and I have 18 adorable grandchildren, with one on the way, and each is a source of great delight to us. Of course they're all unique and talented but there seems to be about one per family that arrives with the "invention" bug, and they've come up with some pretty clever things!
Ben is four years old. Ben introduces himself to strangers by announcing, "My name is Ben and I'm an inventor!" Ben's favorite tools are twist ties, toilet paper rolls, and Elmer's glue. He recently asked his mother if she would please buy an emergency supply of 129 bottles of glue, so he would never run out. One of his bigger creations of late was an airplane that filled much of the garage, using every piece of scrap wood he could find, and more than a little glue.
As you might have realized by now, there's a fairly wide range of usefulness, not to mention safety, among these inventions. Some, though currently in prototype form, might actually prove helpful, like Rachel's Snazzy Page Turner or Steele's RareTip; others, like Ben's airplane, might be more of a liability than an asset, I'm afraid!

As a teenager I attended stake conference with my parents. Elder Harold B. Lee was the presiding authority and speaker.

My father had been up all night long watering his 10-acre field of strawberries. He was fighting to stay awake and most of the time losing the battle. But he wouldn’t think of staying away from stake conference, especially knowing that Elder Lee would be speaking.

We were all a little surprised when Elder Lee stood and started calling some young women from the audience to share their testimonies. My father, who was usually right about such things, poked me and said, “You’ll be the next speaker.” I thought, Surely he will not call on me. I’m sitting in the first row of the recreation hall. As I looked up the aisle, I realized how far it would be to the pulpit. I was the next to be called. And sure enough, it was the longest walk I’d taken in my life.

I accepted that invitation from Elder Lee, and as I walked back to my seat, dear people in the audience would squeeze my arm or pat my hand. I was lifted by that experience, and we will each be lifted as we gain the courage to accept invitations from the Lord and His leaders. The invitation to walk with the Lord is a long walk.

When I was 17 years old, I enlisted in the Royal Canadian Army Reserve. I was sent to a training base, and for the first time in my life, I was on my own to determine my path. I suspected that I would be tempted not to remain active in the Church and that my testimony would be challenged
When I arrived on the base, a course sergeant gave a tour of the different buildings and churches. I was prompted to ask where the LDS branch was located. The sergeant paused for a moment. Then he said that church won’t be found on base, but if I would like to attend, I could go with him and his wife. He was a recent convert to the Church and was happy to take anyone who wanted to go. I was glad to have the option of going, even though I had not decided if I was going to go that Sunday. After all, I was alone and free to choose for myself now. But something in my heart told me I needed to attend.
That Saturday night was one of the hardest in my life. I have since called it my “tree of life” experience. It started when my friends wanted me to hang out with them at the mess hall. I knew they were just going to drink, and I told them I needed sleep because I had to get up early for church. They laughed at my choice and went their way.
After they left, I sank into my bunk. From there, I could look out the window and watch my friends on the mess hall balcony, drinking and laughing. I remembered how they had teased me for not joining them. I felt like I imagine Lehi must have felt when he looked at the great and spacious building, where people were similarly laughing at him. I turned around to face my desk, only to notice my scriptures. I eagerly opened them and began to read. These were my iron rod, and just as the word of God had kept Lehi’s family safe, I knew they would likewise protect me.
I don’t recall what I read that night, but I do recall the Spirit I felt. I felt it again when I went to church the next morning. By attending church every Sunday while I lived on the base, I built a lasting testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Since my time at training camp, I was given the opportunity to share my testimony with others as a full-time missionary in the California Sacramento Mission.

I remember one time meeting a fine young married man who was not very large in stature. He was a professional jockey who had worked for some Latter-day Saint men who owned a large stable of fine racehorses. They taught him how to be a first-class jockey and chose him to ride a truly great horse that they owned. They also taught Johnny the gospel, and he joined the Church.
A year later, his bishop called him to go on a mission. Johnny said, “I can’t go. I’ve got to ride this special horse in the Kentucky Derby. I’m the only jockey who has ridden him.”
However, after some thought, Johnny went to his bosses and asked for their permission to go on a mission. They told him that they had a huge investment in him and couldn’t spare him to go on a mission because of the Derby and the other big races that were coming up. They were sure their horse would win the triple crown. However, neither of his Latter-day Saint bosses felt very good about their decision, so the next day they told him if he wanted to go on a mission, they wouldn’t stand in his way.
He went on his mission, and on the day of the Kentucky Derby, he went tracting in Canada while the horse he would have ridden won. It went on to win the triple crown. The other jockey earned over $200,000 while this fine young man taught the people of Canada the gospel. To me he is an outstanding hero.

Mr. Cooper says that he’s going to be baptized but won’t say when. I hope that it’s before my mission is over two weeks from now. But even though I’d like to be with him then, the important thing is that he get baptized when he’s ready.
Great news! Frank Cooper was baptized yesterday! And last night he gave a party to celebrate and invited a lot of his friends and the members of the ward. He said that it was also a farewell party for me. At the party, we made an appointment to visit one of his nonmember friends. I wish that I could go to that appointment with Elder Butler, but I’ll be home by then.

During my junior year of high school, I moved to live with my dad. I found it very difficult to make friends in my new town. Since I had arrived halfway through the school year, I was at a disadvantage. I felt rejected and lonely.
Because I love to sing, choir class is where I thought I could find my niche of friends. No one was particularly cold to me; however, I found it challenging and awkward to interact with the other choir kids. This made me feel even more isolated and alone.
In stark contrast to the way I was feeling, one girl in choir class seemed to have it all. I will call her Anna. She was stylish, witty, and very popular. She was outspoken with a great sense of humor. Although I didn’t really know her, I found her very likable. Nevertheless, she had one exceedingly offensive and disturbing habit. She frequently took the Lord’s name in vain. She would say His name in a casual and flippant manner. I would cringe when she would say it, but I didn’t know what to do. I thought about asking her to stop, but I was worried that she would laugh at me and mock me in front of the others. I couldn’t stand the thought of feeling even more out of place.
One day our choir class was standing on risers, practicing for a school assembly. While singing, we unexpectedly squawked out a note that was way off pitch.
Anna laughed and yelled, “We sound bad!” punctuated by using the Lord’s name.
Right then and there I decided that I couldn’t take it anymore. The thought came to my mind: “How can I continue day after day to deny my Savior by saying nothing as His name is blasphemed? I have got to speak up now!”
At that moment, I was amazed to hear my voice—loud and firm—saying, “Please don’t say His name that way anymore. He is my Savior.”
Instantly, the room was silent. There was no doubt that the whole class had heard me. I was as shocked as anyone that I had spoken up so boldly. I held my breath and got ready for the repercussions.
After a brief pause, a voice from directly behind me whispered, “Thank you for saying something. I can’t stand it when she says that.” Immediately, I heard another classmate quietly agree. Surprisingly, many in the class seemed to be relieved that I had spoken up.
Anna was silent for a moment. Then she turned to me with tears in her eyes and said softly, “I am so sorry. I didn’t even realize what I was saying. He is my Savior too.”
I am thankful that the Spirit touched me that day in choir class to open my mouth to defend the sacred name of the One who has redeemed me. The Holy Ghost gave me courage to stand up for what is right, and by doing so, I could finally let my light shine (see Matthew 5:14–16).
After that day, I definitely held my head a little higher. Even though I didn’t become popular, I was able to make one first-rate friend in that choir class who joined the Church soon after this experience. As for my other classmates, they seemed to respect me more. One thing I am certain of is that standing up for my Savior gave me more self-respect and confidence. I am eternally grateful for Jesus’s sacrifice. I feel blessed to have been able to do something meaningful to show my love for Him.

My wife and I, and two of my colleagues and their wives, recently participated in a Jewish Shabbat (Sabbath) at the invitation of a dear friend, Robert Abrams and his wife, Diane, in their New York home.21 It commenced at the beginning of the Jewish Sabbath on a Friday evening. The focus was honoring God as the Creator. It began by blessing the family and singing a Sabbath hymn.22 We joined in the ceremonial washing of hands, the blessing of the bread, the prayers, the kosher meal, the recitation of scripture, and singing Sabbath songs in a celebratory mood. We listened to the Hebrew words, following along with English translations. The most poignant scriptures read from the Old Testament, which are also dear to us, were from Isaiah, declaring the Sabbath a delight,23 and from Ezekiel, that the Sabbath “shall be a sign between me and you, that ye may know that I am the Lord your God.”24

The overwhelming impression from this wonderful evening was of family love, devotion, and accountability to God. As I thought about this event, I reflected on the extreme persecution that the Jews have experienced over centuries. Clearly, honoring the Sabbath has been “a perpetual covenant,” preserving and blessing the Jewish people in fulfillment of scripture.25 It has also contributed to the extraordinary family life and happiness that are evident in the lives of many Jewish people.26

Now, I want to talk to you about one other matter before closing. One of my missionaries came to me some time ago. He was a fine missionary. I asked him, “Elder, how can I help you?”

“President,” he said, “I think I’m losing my testimony.”

I couldn’t believe it. I asked him how that could be possible.

“For the first time I have read some anti-Mormon literature,” he said. “I have some questions, and nobody will answer them for me. I am confused, and I think I am losing my testimony.”

I asked him what his questions were, and he told me. They were the standard anti-Church issues, but I wanted a little time to gather materials so I could provide meaningful answers. So we set up an appointment ten days later, at which time I told him I would answer everyone of his questions. As he started to leave, I stopped him.

“Elder, you’ve asked me several questions here today,” I said. “Now I have one for you.”

“Yes, President?”

“How long has it been since you read from the Book of Mormon?” I asked.

His eyes dropped. He looked at the floor for a while. Then he looked at me. “It’s been a long time, President,” he confessed.

“All right,” I said. “You have given me my assignment. It’s only fair that I give you yours. I want you to promise me that you will read in the Book of Mormon for at least one hour every day between now and our next appointment.” He agreed that he would do that.

Ten days later he returned to my office, and I was ready. I pulled out my papers to start answering his questions. But he stopped me.

“President,” he said, “that isn’t going to be necessary.” Then he explained, “I know that the Book of Mormon is true. I know Joseph Smith is a prophet of God.”

“Well, that’s great,” I said, “but you’re going to get answers to your questions anyway. I worked a long time on this, so you just sit there and listen.”

And so I answered all of those questions, and then asked, “Elder, what have you learned from this?”

And he said, “Give the Lord equal time.”

It was after the couple’s marriage, in the late 1970s, that Elder Bednar received a long-hoped-for phone call. It was his father asking him to come home to California to perform a baptism—his own.
“I honestly believe that’s why I was born. Not to teach [my father], but to assist him in learning about the restored gospel,” Elder Bednar says.
His father was an honest, straightforward man. He attended church with young David all his life, coached the softball team, and took Scouts on trips. He supported Elder Bednar’s decision to serve a mission to Germany. He told his young son, “I’ll join this Church when I know it’s the right thing to do” (see Summit, 1997, 9–10).
The years since then have held many unforgettable moments, many from his experiences with Church callings. At age 30, Elder Bednar was called as a member of a stake presidency in Arkansas. He then served as a bishop, twice as a stake president, and later as a regional representative, Area Authority, and Area Authority Seventy.
On 1 October, President Gordon B. Hinckley extended an apostolic call to Elder Bednar, less than 24 hours before he was sustained by Church members throughout the world.
“I think I know better than anyone that within The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints there are literally hundreds and thousands of men better qualified, more able than I,” he says, “but I do know from whence the call has come. And so I’m honored to respond. I look forward to serving, and I’m anxious for the opportunity to be able to learn.”

That was the year my father transplanted our family of nine from our home in Hawaii to the foreign land of Michigan. While he was enjoying a sabbatical leave at the University of Michigan, I was wearing transparent rubber galoshes, cat glasses, and a second-hand grandma coat to school, and enduring the snubs of my classmates.
I was naive and ignorant about midwest fashion. How was I to know it wasn’t kosher to wear white socks in the winter? In Hawaii we didn’t wear socks. In fact, most of the time we didn’t even wear shoes. Even if I had deciphered the fashion code, I couldn’t have done anything to remedy the problem because my father was earning half salary that year. Without money, fashion was out.
I admit I enjoyed many happy times with my family in Michigan, but nonetheless was greatly relieved when the sabbatical ended and we returned to Hawaii where fashion was largely ignored and I had many friends.

I was faced with an assignment at school that made me very uncomfortable. Our teacher asked half the class to write an essay on why we should keep the words under God in the Pledge of Allegiance (of the United States) and the other half—my half—to write an essay on why we should take them out. I was sad and felt that I could not do this. I believe in Heavenly Father and have a testimony of Him, and I wanted to keep His name in the pledge. I went to my mom with this problem, and she told me to express my true opinion. She also told me to tell the teacher how I felt. So the next day I turned in the assignment and told my teacher why I could not do as she had asked. To my amazement, that is what she wanted. She hoped we would stand up for what we believed, and gave us the assignment to see if we would make that choice for ourselves. I was the only one in the class who did not defend the assigned point of view.

Here is a story that I would like to share with you. The closing speaker at a stake conference was a General Authority. He had talked for about ten minutes when all of a sudden, from way back in the chapel, came a five-year-old boy strolling down the aisle. The boy was all dressed up by his mother for the occasion in gray slacks, a white shirt, and a red bow tie, and his hair was sticking up in the air with a lot of “greasy kid stuff.” This dapper young man came down the aisle and stopped right in front of the pulpit. He looked up at the speaker and said, “You talk too loud.” Then he turned around and went back to his mother.
Now the speaker hoped there would be no further interruptions. But, lo and behold, after fifteen minutes there came the boy walking down the aisle again, and he stopped for the second time in front of the speaker. This time, he looked up and said, “And you talk too long.”
The speaker, however, did not react and continued to finish his talk. After all, we have been trained to keep our cool under all circumstances. Then there was a beautiful congregational closing hymn and the benediction to finish the meeting, followed by the usual socializing and shaking of hands. The mother of the five-year-old boy also came to the stand and said, “Elder, I hope you did not pay too much attention to my five-year-old boy because he was only repeating what other people were saying.”
We love the Saints and especially the mothers of five-year-old boys, because, after all, none of us is perfect.