Gospel Story Finder

My father grew up on the island of Java in Indonesia. During World War II, he was forcefully separated from his family and interned in a concentration camp, where he suffered unspeakable hardships at a young age.
After more than 65 years of marriage, my mother, who suffered from Alzheimer’s disease, passed away in February. My father, at the age of 92 and still living at home, visited her as often as he could until she passed away. Some time ago he mentioned to my younger siblings that the dreadful experiences in the camp in Indonesia during World War II had prepared him to patiently care for his wife for so many years as she fell ill and deteriorated from this horrible disease and also for the fateful day he had to entrust her primary care to others and could not be by her side anymore. Their motto has been and still is to “Just carry on,” having a perfect hope in Christ to be raised up at the last day and to dwell with Him in glory forever.

I recently observed from a distance a couple who at one time had faith in Christ but then decided to discard their belief. They were successful in the world, and they found pleasure in their intellect and the rejection of their faith.
All seemed well until the husband, still young and energetic, suddenly fell ill and died. Like an eclipse of the sun, they had blocked the light of the Son, and the result was an eclipse of hope. The wife, in her disbelief, now felt disoriented, painfully unprepared, unable to comfort her children. Her intellect had told her that her life was in perfect order until suddenly she could see no tomorrow. Her despair brought darkness and confusion.
Let me contrast her painful despair with another family’s hope in Christ during a heartbreaking time.
Twenty-one years ago the newborn son of my nephew Ben Andersen and his wife, Robbie, was life-flighted from their Idaho farming community to Salt Lake City. I arrived at the hospital, and Ben explained the severe, life-threatening complications with their baby’s heart. We placed our hands on Trey’s tiny head. The Lord blessed him with continued life.
Trey had heart surgery the first week of his life, and more surgeries followed. As the years passed, it became apparent that Trey would need a heart transplant. Although his physical activities were limited, his faith expanded. He wrote, “I have never felt sorry for myself because I have always known the importance of having faith in Jesus Christ and a testimony of the plan of salvation.”
Trey kept on his phone this well-known quote from President Nelson: “The joy we feel has little to do with the circumstances of our lives and everything to do with the focus of our lives.”
Trey wrote: “I have always looked forward to serving a full-time mission, but … my doctors won’t let me serve a mission until at least a year after my transplant. … I’ve put my faith in Jesus Christ.”
Trey was excited at being accepted into the accounting major at BYU beginning this semester, but even more excited in late July when he received the very anticipated telephone call to come to the hospital for his heart transplant.
“One year,” Trey said, “and I will be on my mission.”
There were great expectations as he entered the operating room. However, during the surgery there were devastating complications, and Trey never regained consciousness.
His mother, Robbie, said: “Friday had been the most heartbreaking day … just trying to wrap our minds around it. … I had stayed up late just trying to process everything. … But Saturday, I woke up with a feeling of absolute joy. It wasn’t just peace; it wasn’t denial. I felt joy for my son, and I felt joy as his mother. … Ben had gotten up a lot earlier than me, and when we finally got a chance to talk, Ben had awakened with the exact same feeling.”
Ben explained: “Clarity came to my soul as God taught me through His Holy Spirit. I awoke at 4:00 a.m. and was filled with indescribable peace and joy. How is this possible? … The passing of Trey is so very painful, and I miss him so much. But the Lord does not leave us comfortless. … I look forward to a joyful reunion.”
Trey had noted in his journal these words from President Nelson’s general conference talk: “It doesn’t seem possible to feel joy when your child suffers with an incurable illness or when you lose your job or when your spouse betrays you. Yet that is precisely the joy the Savior offers. His joy is constant, assuring us that our ‘afflictions shall be but a small moment’ [Doctrine and Covenants 121:7] and be consecrated to our gain.”

There are abundant examples of successful youth leadership occurring minute by minute all over the world. Let me give you just one example.
I met Matt Andersen, a teachers quorum president whose father was serving as a mission president in Mexico. When Matt was set apart as the quorum president, he was the only member of the teachers quorum attending church in his ward. Young President Matt Andersen was learning a new language so he could be an effective missionary. Going forward with faith, courage, and confidence gained at home and in the deacons quorum, he determined to use his keys of presidency to bless the members of his quorum and their families. He immediately asked for a list of quorum members from the ward clerk, practiced his Spanish, and with a prayer in his heart called the one boy who was listed with a telephone number. He said, “¡Omar: Tú, Iglesia, Hoy!” Or in English, “Omar! You, Church, Today!” Just the basic message!
The miracle is that Omar came to church that day, and soon thereafter so did his mother and sister. Our young quorum president, Matt Andersen, then invited the bishop to drive him, translate, and together visit two other boys whose names were on the list but without telephone numbers. His keys of presidency, the ministering of angels, and the powers of heaven combined. The result was that these two boys also came to church and formed the new teachers quorum presidency. Other boys and their families also returned to the blessings of the gospel and the priesthood.

Amanda Higbee was frightened. Papa had warned her about the wicked men who hated Mormons. The previous May Papa had baptized her, and it had been the happiest day of her life. Today was the worst, or so Amanda thought. Papa should have come home last night, but he hadn’t. Mama said not to worry, but Amanda was afraid some of the wicked men had caught him.
In the next room a door slammed, and Amanda rushed out. But instead of it being Papa, it was her brother Josiah, yelling, “Ma! The mill’s on fire! Walker’s barn is burning, and they’re heading toward the Robison’s!”
“Who are ‘they’?” asked Ma as Josiah tried to catch his breath.
“A mob of Missourians. They had guns and torches and everything! I heard them say that they were going to burn all the Mormons out of Jackson County.”
If Ma was frightened, she didn’t show it. Instead, she gathered her children about her and said, “Children, your father warned us that this might happen. I’m afraid it won’t be long before they’ll be here. Listen carefully. This is what you must do …”
After listening to Ma’s instructions, the children quickly obeyed. Mary gathered up the bedding, while Josiah brought the wagon around. After handing Joseph a bag of grain, Amanda helped Hannah with the cooking gear. In the distance, a reddish glow lit up the sky, and Amanda could hear men shouting. A few pieces of furniture were loaded into the wagon, and then the Higbees were off, with Josiah driving.
On the road ahead they saw several of their friends and neighbors. The Robisons and Walkers had escaped in time, as well as the Stones and Ewells. Amanda waved to Elizabeth Robison, but Elizabeth just stared past her. Wondering why, Amanda turned around and saw wagonloads of people coming from every direction. Behind them were burning farms and houses. Amanda started to cry. It was too much: Papa was lost, their home was gone, and now they were fleeing for their lives!
“What’s this?” Ma said, turning around. “Tears, Amanda? Hannah, you too? What you need is a good story.”
Amanda didn’t think a story would help, but Ma continued anyway. “Did you know that we are just like the Nephites in the Book of Mormon?” she asked.
“We are?” Josiah asked, “I don’t remember anything like this happening to them.”
“Oh, yes, Josiah,” Ma replied. “The Nephites were driven from their homes many times. Like us, they believed in a prophet of God, and because of their belief, they were often persecuted and sometimes put to death.”
“Did they have a prophet named Joseph Smith, too?” sniffled Hannah, wiping away her tears.
“No, Hannah. But there were many other prophets. Let me tell you about a prophet named Abinadi. When he preached to a certain king by the name of Noah, the wicked king refused to believe Abinadi’s words. He ordered his men to bind Abinadi and kill him by setting him afire.”
“Did they really burn him?” asked Amanda.
“Yes. But one of the king’s men, Alma, believed what Abinadi had taught. When Alma tried to save him, King Noah became even angrier, and he ordered his men to kill Alma too. Luckily Alma escaped from the king’s guards and hid.
“Alma repented of his sins and preached privately among the people the things that Abinadi had taught. Every day more and more people came to listen to Alma. In time over two hundred believers were baptized.
“One day,” continued Ma, “King Noah heard about Alma’s success and sent out an army to destroy Alma and his followers. However, when King Noah’s army reached the forest near the Waters of Mormon where Alma and his people had been gathered, no one was there. Heavenly Father had warned Alma, and everyone had escaped.
“After traveling in the wilderness for eight days, Alma found another beautiful place for his people to live. There they built houses, planted crops, and were very happy. They lived in peace for several years. Then a group of Lamanites and apostate Nephites found them. They were as bad as King Noah. They made Alma and his people slaves; they beat them for believing in Jesus Christ, and if any of Alma’s people were discovered praying to the Lord, they were to be put to death.”
“You mean the Nephites were killed just for praying?” gasped Mary.
“How would the Lamanites know if they were praying—did they have spies?” asked Josiah.
“I don’t know, Josiah,” Ma replied. “But the Nephites were brave people. They outsmarted the Lamanites by praying in their hearts. Heavenly Father heard their prayers and said to Alma, “Thou shalt go before this people, and I will go with thee and deliver this people out of bondage’ (Mosiah 24:17). Then He caused the Lamanites to fall into a deep sleep. While the Lamanites were asleep, the Nephites escaped. Soon they found a country with a good king, Mosiah, and they lived there in peace and prosperity.”
“I liked that story, Ma,” said Amanda. “Please tell us another.”
Everyone agreed, and soon their mother was telling them about Alma and his adventures in the city of Ammonihah. While her mother explained how Alma and Amulek escaped from prison, Amanda realized that she had forgotten all about her own problems.
When nightfall came, the Higbees looked for a place to spend the night. Rain had started to fall, so they decided to camp in the shelter of an overhanging bluff. Some of their friends camped near them, and for a while everyone felt safe. Then, about two o’clock in the morning, the rain turned into a raging storm, and a small stream near the camp became a roaring river. Amanda watched in horror as trees and bushes were swept away. Grabbing her belongings, she joined the rest of the family as they raced for shelter. Earlier, Josiah had spotted a cave near the top of the bluff, so they headed toward it.
Because Ma had become very ill during the night, Brother Carr offered to carry her to the cave. Walking next to them, Amanda felt like crying again. And when she saw that the cave was filled with wild hogs, she was terrified. But she, Mary, and Josiah decided that the family needed the cave more than the hogs did. So, grabbing sticks, the children attacked. The hogs fled.
Ma was carried in as soon as the cave was cleaned out as well as it could be. Too sick to lie down, Ma spent the rest of the night sitting in her chair. Amanda curled up between Mary and Hannah. Sharing a wet blanket, they tried to sleep as lightning crackled, thunder boomed, and babies cried.
Morning came, and with it the sunshine. A familiar voice awakened them. “Hello! Anybody up there?”
Amanda ran from the cave, shouting, “Papa! Papa! You’re safe! You found us!”
Behind her came the rest of the family. Soon everyone had been hugged and kissed. Then Papa explained how he had found them. After hiding for several days, he had returned home to find it burned and his family gone.
“Did you cry, Papa?” asked Amanda, snuggling closer to him.
“Yes, Amanda. I cried, and I prayed. Then this morning I rode into camp and heard about some crazy kids who had chased wild hogs out of a cave so that their mother could get in out of the rain.” The children smiled proudly, and father finished by saying, “Do you realize you probably saved your mother’s life?” He picked up Ma, and they all worked their way down the hill, a complete family once more.
Later that day the Higbees stood near the bank of the mighty Missouri River, where many of the Saints were lined up, waiting to cross over. These people had just fled fire, flood, and mobs. However, hope was in their hearts, for ahead of them was a new land. Like the Nephites, they would again plant crops, build houses, and live in peace for a few years. Their hard times were not over, but for now they were safe and happy to be alive.
The Higbees’ turn on the ferryboat came, and they began the crossing. Looking at the brown waves slapping against the sides of the boat, Amanda felt sick. Oh, Heavenly Father, she silently prayed, help us.
Heavenly Father did help them. They made the trip safely—all except Ma. She was nearly unconscious when Papa carried her up the bank. Some women, seeing her condition, rushed over to help. Within minutes a tent was put up, and Ma was carried inside.
“Is Ma going to die?” asked Hannah fearfully, trying to peek into the tent.
“No,” replied Papa. “Your mother’s baby is ready to be born.”
And sure enough, at that very moment they heard the cry of a newborn baby.
“Yippee!” yelled Josiah. “We just got us a brother.”
“It could be a girl,” Amanda reminded him.
But Josiah was right. Cradled in Ma’s arms was a beautiful baby boy.
“Look at his little fingers and toes,” Hannah whispered.
“Hello, baby!” said Joseph.
“His eyes are so big,” sighed Amanda.
“What’s his name?” asked Josiah.
“Let’s call him Alma,” Ma suggested, and everyone agreed.

On May 30 of last year, my friend Troy Russell pulled his pickup truck slowly out of his garage on his way to donate goods to the local Deseret Industries. He felt his back tire roll over a bump. Thinking some item had fallen off the truck, he got out only to find his precious nine-year-old son, Austen, lying face down on the pavement. The screams, the priesthood blessing, the paramedic crew, the hospital staff—they were, in this case, to no avail. Austen was gone.
Unable to sleep, unable to find peace, Troy was inconsolable. He said it was more than he could bear and that he simply could not go on. But into that agonizing breach came three redeeming forces.
First was the love and reassuring spirit of our Father in Heaven, a presence communicated through the Holy Ghost that comforted Troy, taught him, loved him, and whispered that God knows everything about losing a beautiful and perfect Son. Second was his wife, Deedra, who held Troy in her arms and loved him and reminded him that she too had lost that son and was determined not to lose a husband also. Third in this story is John Manning, home teacher extraordinaire.
I frankly don’t know on what schedule John and his junior companion made visits to the Russell home, or what message was given when they got there, or how they reported the experience. What I do know is that last spring Brother Manning reached down and picked Troy Russell up off the tragedy of that driveway just as if he were picking up little Austen himself. Like the home teacher or watchman or brother in the gospel he was supposed to be, John simply took over the priesthood care and keeping of Troy Russell. He started by saying, “Troy, Austen wants you back on your feet—including on the basketball court—so I will be here every morning at 5:15 a.m. Be ready because I don’t want to have to come in to get you up—and I know Deedra doesn’t want me to do that either.”
“I didn’t want to go,” Troy told me later, “because I had always taken Austen with me on those mornings and I knew the memories would be too painful. But John insisted, so I went. From that first day back, we talked—or rather I talked and John listened. I talked the entire drive to the church and then the entire drive home. Sometimes I talked while we parked in the driveway and watched the sun rising over Las Vegas. At first it was difficult, but over time I realized I had found my strength in the form of a very slow 6-foot-2-inch (1.88 m) Church ball player, with an absolutely pathetic jump shot, who loved me and listened to me until the sun finally rose again on my life.”8

Like the Li family, the Wu family has also traced their family line back to the emperor. In doing so, they discovered that the Wu children were part of the 150th generation since the emperor. The story caught the attention of the media, and in 2005, Wilford Wu, then 19, was selected to represent the young people of Taiwan during an annual ceremony at the traditional tomb of the Yellow Emperor.
For the Wu family, members of the Ching Hsin Ward, Taipei Taiwan West Stake, family history has been a family effort. Brother Wu, Chi-Li and his wife, Shirley, did much of the research, and Wilford and his older sister, Camilla, have helped organize it and participate in temple ordinances for more than 3,000 of their ancestors.
Working together has helped bring the Wu family closer together. They say it has also helped them feel a special connection with their ancestors.

Memorizing had never come easy for me, but when my mission president challenged all of us to memorize Alma’s testimony in Alma 5:45–46, I exercised a little faith and began to commit Alma’s words to memory. It took a couple of weeks and some effort in my morning study, but I did it.
A few days later my companion and I were teaching a group of college students, who began to ask us some pointed questions. One young man looked at me and asked, “Do you really believe all this?” Alma’s testimony flashed into my mind, and I began sharing my testimony, using many of his words: “I do know that these things whereof [we] have spoken are true. And how do [you] suppose that I know of their surety? … They are made known unto me by the Holy Spirit of God. … I have fasted and prayed many days that I might know these things of myself. And now I do know of myself that they are true; for the Lord God hath made them manifest unto me by his Holy Spirit; and this is the spirit of revelation which is in me.”
Alma’s words had become my words too. The Spirit softly confirmed them in my heart as I spoke them. The words also had an immediate effect on the people we were teaching. Their hearts softened. In that moment I experienced the blessings of memorizing a scripture passage. Alma’s words have continued to be a friend and comfort to me when I need them.

Tessa stared down at her shoes. It was time for gym class. Kids were picking teams to play kickball. She knew she would get picked last. She always did.
Soon no one else was left but Tessa. “I guess we’re stuck with her again,” the team captain whispered to his friend. Both of them snickered.
Tessa pretended she hadn’t heard.
A few minutes into the game, a girl on the other team kicked the ball. It was coming right at Tessa!
I’ll show them I can play! Tessa thought. She lunged forward to catch the ball. But it hit her arms and bounced to the ground.
“Can’t you do anything right?” the team captain said.
Tessa spun around to face him. “Fine! You don’t have to be stuck with me anymore!” She stomped over to the ball and kicked it hard.
Tessa’s best friend, Shondra, ran after her. “Hey, it’s all right,” Shondra said. “Anybody can drop a ball.”
“Yeah? Then how come nobody wants me on their team?” Tessa said.
“Maybe it’s because you get so mad,” Shondra said. She walked back to where the other kids were waiting.
Tessa sat on a bench in the corner of the playground. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn’t want the school to call her parents again. They had already called before. The principal said Tessa had trouble getting along with other kids.
Tessa didn’t know why she acted the way she did. She didn’t want to cause trouble. She just felt so angry and sad sometimes, and she had a hard time keeping it in.
Tessa sighed. “I’ll never fit in,” she said to herself.
When school ended, Tessa hurried outside. Mom was there to pick her up. She listened as Tessa told about her day.
“They never choose me to be on their team,” Tessa said. “I feel like no one is ever on my side.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Mom said. “Sometimes people are unkind. But Heavenly Father is always on your side. And so is your family.” She gave Tessa a hug. “Let’s go home now. I have a surprise for you.”
When they got home, Grandma was there! Tessa always loved her visits.
“I want to know everything that’s going on in your life,” Grandma said. “How’s school?”
Tessa looked down. “Not very good.”
“Your mom said you were having a hard time,” Grandma said. “You know that she and your dad are praying for you, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And you know that Grandpa and I pray for you, right?”
Tessa nodded.
“Well, now you have a lot of other people praying for you too!”
“What do you mean?” Tessa asked.
“I put your name on the prayer roll in the temple,” Grandma said. “That way, lots of people are praying for you—even people who don’t know you.”
“So, it’s kind of like they’re on the same team as me?” Tessa said.
“Sure, you could look at it that way,” Grandma said. “Heavenly Father is always cheering you on! And now, so are all those people who are praying for you.”
“Thank you, Grandma!” Tessa gave Grandma a big hug.
The next time Tessa felt upset at school, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She remembered all of the people who were praying for her. That helped her feel a little better. Then she bowed her head to say a prayer of her own.
Thank you, Heavenly Father, she prayed. Thank you for cheering me on.

Most weeks, I attend sacrament meeting in our ward and partake of the sacrament to renew my baptismal covenants and receive a remission of my sins. Often, I find it’s easy to let this sacred ordinance become a routine, something I go through without much thought. But every so often, the Lord blesses me with a powerful spiritual experience that stays with me.
One such experience happened during a ward conference in the Park Ridge First Ward of the Brisbane Australia Beenleigh Stake. At the time, I was serving as an assistant stake clerk, responsible for recording information for the stake history. I had come to the meeting with my notebook, ready to fulfil my assignment, but I left with a renewed sense of purpose and courage.
As the congregation sang hymn number 191, “Behold the Great Redeemer Die,” we came to these words:
“Father, from me remove this cup.
Yet, if thou wilt, I’ll drink it up.
I’ve done the work thou gavest me,
I’ve done the work thou gavest me;
Receive my spirit unto thee.”
Suddenly, these words pierced my heart.
My mind turned to the trials that my wife and I had faced over the years. Decades ago her health took a dramatic turn after a near-death experience, leading to long-term physical challenges that eventually confined her to a wheelchair. For the past decade, I’ve been her full-time carer, helping her navigate these challenges while also managing my own health issues. Together, we have borne many burdens, including the heartache of seeing some of our children and grandchildren step away from the gospel. At times, my “cup” felt more than full.
It hit me that we all have a work to do in this life. Each of us has been given our own cup to drink. Whether it’s as a father, mother, child, or in our work, school, callings, or family responsibilities, we all face challenges that can test our resolve. Sometimes, that cup feels almost impossible to take.
I thought about those who might be facing physical challenges, the loss of a job, struggles at school, addiction, or the heavy responsibility of caring for an aging, sick, or disabled family member. These trials, as hard as they are, are part of the work the Lord has given us. They are opportunities to prove our love for Him and for those around us.
At that moment, I asked myself a sobering question: “Am I ready to ‘drink it up’?”
The Savior’s example came to mind. In the Garden of Gethsemane, He too struggled under the weight of His own cup, pleading, “Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup.” And yet, in perfect submission, He added, “Not my will, but thine, be done” (Luke 22:42).
This realization gave me a renewed courage to press forward with faith. I thought about the day I hope to stand before the Lord and hear the words, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant” (Matthew 25:21). To reach that day, I know I must continue to drink the cup the Lord has given me, even when it is bitter.
The Savior’s example has taught me that the trials we face are not meant to break us but to refine us. I’ve come to understand that the “cup” the Lord gives each of us is not only a test of our faith but also an invitation to rely on His Atonement more fully and to trust in His eternal perspective. Like Job in the Old Testament, I’ve drawn courage from the knowledge that God knows what I need to refine me, even when I don’t. And while my burdens have often felt heavy, I can say without hesitation that they are nothing compared to the suffering the Savior endured for us.
These experiences have deepened my love for my wife and strengthened my resolve to be a better example to my children. They have also taught me to see the sacrament with new eyes, as I ponder the Savior’s broken body and blood and remember how His perfect obedience made it possible for me to endure my own trials. I have cried many tears, especially in the solitude of night, but in those moments, I too surrendered and said, even through the pain: “Not my will, but Thine, be done.”
At 76 years of age, I have done my three score and ten. I don’t know how many more years I have, but I hope to be found faithful to the end. Whatever “cup” the Lord still has in store for me, I will drink it willingly, knowing that the Savior has already drunk the bitterest cup for us all. Because of Him, we don’t have to do it alone.

When I was a child, I lived in Zwickau, Germany. My grandmother had a friend with white, flowing hair. Her name was Sister Ewig, and she invited my grandmother to church. When our family went there, we saw many children. All of us were very impressed by the families, the children, and the music, especially the singing. I felt at home right away. My whole family—except me, because I was only six years old—were baptized members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. When I was eight, I was baptized in a public swimming pool by my father.

One Sunday, right in the middle of the branch sacrament meeting, a woman walked in the door off the street. She was a homeless woman who was wearing dirty, ragged clothes, coughing, choking, and blowing her nose into a filthy handkerchief. In a loud, hoarse voice she said, “I want to sing! I want to pray!” and walked right to the front row and sat down next to a member who was wearing a white blouse, leaned against her, and laid her head on her shoulder. The member immediately put her arms around this guest and held her in her arms throughout the remainder of the meeting. It happened that the speaker had been talking about the parable of the good Samaritan as the woman had come in. As this woman coughed and choked, the speaker continued telling of the parable. As he came to the end of his talk and was quoting a relevant scripture, suddenly, in a loud voice, this homeless woman finished giving the verse that the speaker had begun. In talking of this after sacrament meeting with the speaker, we thought it had probably been a long time since someone had affectionately put an arm around our visitor. We wondered what better illustration you could have of the parable of the good Samaritan than what we had just seen, and we were reminded of the Savior’s words that preceded His telling of that parable, “Thou shalt love … thy neighbour as thyself.”

In May of 2023, John received an unexpected visit from Elder Paul Whippy of the Pacific Area Seventy of the Church. Elder Whippy was so impressed with John’s example of Christian love and service that he shared the experience with Elder Taniela B. Wakolo, his priesthood leader in the Area Presidency.
When John was informed that Elder Wakolo also wanted to meet him, he organised for caregivers to ensure he was up and carefully dressed in his church attire, ready for the visit. In both these visits, John shared his testimony with the elders and some of the lessons he has learned over many years of faithful church service.

The Spirit was in evidence on many other occasions. At one point, it was discovered that someone was stealing the taros that had taken so much labor to plant. No one at Sauniatu seemed to know anything about it, and Brother Kamauoha became very concerned. That night, he prayed for direction in solving this problem. His prayer was answered with a dream in which he saw two villagers stealing the taros from the plantation. He saw how they were digging them up, cutting the leaves off the roots, and sticking the leaves back into the ground. He saw where they were hiding the taro roots and how they would come back for them later in the night. The next day, he called the two men into his office and asked them why they had been stealing the taros. They were belligerent and asked, “What makes you think we are the ones?”
Brother Kamauoha replied, “I know you are stealing the taros because the Lord showed me in a dream.” Then he related step by step just how they had done it. “They cried, were very sorry, and learned a great lesson about lying: You can lie to another man, but you cannot lie to God.
“I have had many experiences that have made me realize that the Lord will help you to do the impossible. When you operate like this, you learn that keeping the Spirit is the most important thing.
“One day, we had a work crew organized, and we needed 13,000 fathoms of sennett (rope made from coconut husks) to tie the pieces of the roof on the McKay house together. I had received promises from many people that they would supply the rope, but when I went to pick it up, no one had it ready. After driving all over the island, I had collected only about 30 fathoms. I was discouraged, and so I complained to God. In my prayers, I said, ‘We are working hard, and yet I can’t get the help I need.’
“I had to stop at the mission home to confirm another appointment, and one of the supervising elders said, ‘Brother Kamauoha, I have some sennett you can use.’
“I thought, ‘How nice,’ but I was sure an elder’s little souvenir roll of sennett wouldn’t really help us. He went into his room and came out with this big roll. He handed it to me and said he had about 13,000 fathoms as he wanted to build a Samoan fale (house) with it when he got home to the U.S.
“You can bet I hurriedly went back to the Lord and retracted my complaining. I was truly sorry for ever being discouraged.”
When the various projects were well into their second year, Brother Kamauoha reported that the people really learned that a job is not done until it is complete. After building roads, bridges, and the steps to the waterfall, the people at Sauniatu had to put in a culinary water system. They wanted to pipe water from a spring. They had no money for pipe, so they dug up some old pipe that had been used years before and cleaned it in the river. Then they painted the usable pieces. They only had enough good pipe to make a straight line from the spring to the village. Seventy-five feet of lava bedrock lay in the path of their trench.
“I told them, ‘We have enough good pipe to make a straight pipeline. So if you want water and you want it badly enough, then you’ll have to cut through the bedrock to the spring!’ A big Samoan man named Faleow Itopi, who had worked extra hard on every project said, ‘Why, after what we have done, this little bedrock is nothing.’
“We worked into the nights with lanterns. Faleow’s hands were bleeding, but he set an example for the students and showed them how to work. He was that way in all of his projects. When he built roads, he always built them too long rather than too short. He never took a shortcut because his heart was in the right place.”
From Ed Kamauoha and Faleow Itopi and other leaders like them, the young people of Sauniatu learned that despite being poor and often scorned by other men, they are important to the Lord, and he will help them be “Number 1.” Wherever they have gone as they have left Sauniatu, they have established the reputation of working hard and being the best.
Most of the young men who worked on Sauniatu went on missions. Elder Pouono Lameka is now serving a mission in Western Samoa. He spent three years at Sauniatu. He worked on the farm and the waterfall besides going to school. When he talks about his experiences at Sauniatu, his eyes shine and his face looks happy.
“I expanded at Sauniatu,” he said. “Brother Kamauoha encouraged me in school so that I improved and graduated from high school. He was my teacher—now he is my friend.”
Most of the students said they are grateful that they learned how to work, and they feel that this experience has helped them to face almost any problem. Mati Fuifatu said, “Ed taught me how to do things and then made it my responsibility to get them done.”
While the projects were being finished, the Sauniatu students’ academic ratings rose. They gained feelings of independence and pride and in three years raised themselves from the bottom of the standard test to the top scores in all the Church schools.
Poao and Atalina Ahhow met while they were both single teachers at Sauniatu. After they were married, they decided to go to BYU—Hawaii Campus and get additional schooling. Atalina said she learned about being a good mother and teaching a family from watching the young people work on the various projects.
“I also learned that you need to check after a project is done. If it isn’t right, do it over,” she said.
Her husband, Poao, said that he learned leadership skills, and once he caught the vision of doing the impossible, he felt he could go away for additional schooling so he could become a better teacher. “I learned that sometimes when the work is very hard, if you make a joke and smile, it seems easier.”
Poao and Atalina struggled at BYU—Hawaii because they didn’t have much money. “We had learned to sacrifice while at Sauniatu, and the Lord blessed us for it. When we needed money to do our washing, we would visit a pool near the temple. Every time we needed a quarter for the washing machine, it was waiting for us in the pool. Sometimes more was there, but we only took enough to do our washing. When we didn’t need money, we never saw money in the pool. This is one way the Lord helped us,” Poao said.
Brother Folau Neria and his wife, Leute, think of Sauniatu as a place of blessings because they have seen the Lord’s hand there. They were dorm parents while most of the work was being done, and Sister Neria worked with the girls who made one of the roads.
Brother Neria explained his feelings about Sauniatu. “I love that place. That’s where I met my sweetheart in 1942. Some of the first schoolteachers there taught me. I learned to take care of the work of the Lord there.
“We built that place with our hands and made it beautiful, then the Lord blessed it for us. Taros, bananas, everything grows better there than in any other place in Samoa.
“We learned how to work together and to teach each other to work. I was serving as bishop, and I learned that if we show people how to work and start first, they will soon follow.”
The spirit of Sauniatu seems to affect everyone who goes there. Brother Isamaeli, who works on maintenance at the school, said that he didn’t want to come at first. “But,” he said, “after I had been at Sauniatu for a while, I felt the Spirit of the Lord upon my family. I knew it was a blessing to be here. When my family is sick, I administer to them and they get better. Before we came here, my wife and I quarreled many times, and sometimes I lost patience with her. But I’m glad to say that now we have a very happy family.
“It is nice to live in a place that is far away from town and other big villages. It is very quiet, and we are free from drunkards, robbers, and other people who cause trouble.”
Today Losa Lane aptly fits President McKay’s description of Sauniatu as “the most beautiful place on earth.” The young people walking beneath the palms and orchids are beautiful. They love the Lord and work hard to improve themselves and live the gospel. And every year, a few of them are prepared to go forth into the world. They take the lessons of Sauniatu with them. And there is a great principle of leadership training that was used to teach all the lessons of Sauniatu: “We loved them,” said Brother Neria. “That is the way to make them work.”

Steve Hammond, 14, of King Salmon, Alaska, is an Eagle Scout, but he didn’t have a troop to help him reach his goal. Steve was following in the footsteps of his 16-year-old brother, David. Both boys earned their Eagle badges as Lone Scouts.
Their father became a registered Scoutmaster so he could supervise their work. He wanted his sons to do their work the right way. He says, “I was probably tougher on them than another Scoutmaster would have been.”
Steve had a wonderful time earning his fishing merit badge. He hooked a 36-pound king salmon.
Steve and David made something of a competition out of earning merit badges. They received their awards together in a special court of honor. As an Eagle project, Steve and David took on the restoration of a nearby Russian Orthodox church cemetery.
Steve and David are in the King Salmon Branch, Alaska Anchorage Mission.

Let me tell you a story I heard recently in Mexico.
Thirty years ago David Castañeda; his wife, Tomasa; and their children lived on a dry, little, run-down ranch near Torreón. They owned 30 chickens, two pigs, and one thin horse. They walked in poverty. Then the missionaries called on them. Sister Castañeda said, “The elders took the blinders from our eyes and brought light into our lives. We knew nothing of Jesus Christ. We knew nothing of God until they came.”
The elders taught them, and they were eventually baptized. They moved into the little town of Bermejillo. They started in the junk business, buying wrecked automobiles. They gradually built a prosperous business. With simple faith they paid their tithing. They put their trust in the Lord. They lived the gospel. They served wherever they were called to serve. Four of their sons and three of their daughters filled missions. They have been made fun of for their obedience to gospel principles. Their answer is a testimony of the power of the Lord in their lives.
Some 200 of their family and friends have joined the Church due to their influence. The children, now grown, and the parents take turns going to Mexico City each month to work in the temple. They stand as a living testimony of the great power of this work of the Lord to lift and change people.

I used to farm with my dad. I didn’t always enjoy it, but when lunchtime came we’d sit in the shade of the tall poplar trees, eat our lunch, and talk. My dad didn’t use this as a golden teaching moment to lay down the law and straighten out his daughter. We just talked—about anything and everything.
This was the time I could ask questions. I felt so safe I could even ask questions that might provoke him. I remember asking him, “Why did you embarrass me in front of my friends last week when I had stayed out too late and you came and got me?”
His answer leads to another aspect of love. He wasn’t being arbitrary. There were certain standards of behavior I was expected to live. He said, “Having you out late worried me. Above all, I want you safe.” I realized his love for me was stronger than his desire for sleep or the inconvenience of getting dressed and driving down the road looking for me.

“Today we are going to learn a new song,” Sister Reid announced. “It’s called ‘Baptism.’ Everyone close your eyes and listen to the music.”
I closed my eyes and relaxed in my chair. The pianist started playing a melody that sounded soft and graceful, like flowing water. Then Sister Reid started singing: “Jesus came to John the Baptist, in Judea long ago, and was baptized by immersion in the River Jordan’s flow.”
I felt a tear slide down my cheek. I tried to wipe it away before Mom could see, but it was too late. Mom was the Primary president, and she always saw everything. I saw Mom look at me and smile sadly. She knew why I was crying.
After church, my little sister, Julie, hummed the song the whole ride home. I stayed silent.
“Do you want to color with me?” Julie asked when we got home.
I shook my head. “Maybe later. I’ve got to do something first.”
I found Dad in the living room. He was sitting in his favorite chair with a book open on his lap. He liked to read while Julie, Mom, and I went to church.
I took a deep breath. “Dad?” I said. “Can I get baptized?”
Dad closed the book and asked me to sit by him.
“Oh, Sadie. We’ve talked about this. My answer is still no,” he said.
“But I really want to!” I said. “I turned eight a few months ago, and I’ve thought about it a lot. I know the Church is true, and the longer I wait, the more I know I want to be baptized.”
Dad shook his head. “I still think you’re too young to make such a big decision. But you know I love you.”
“I know,” I said. I knew Dad wanted what was best for me. He just didn’t think I was ready to make this choice.
I ran to my room and bowed my head. I prayed harder than I ever had before. “Heavenly Father, I really want to be baptized. Please help Dad understand.”
At first nothing happened, but I stayed on my knees. The melody of “Baptism” ran through my mind. After a while, I didn’t feel so sad. Instead, I felt peaceful inside. I started thinking about all of the things I could do, even though I couldn’t be baptized yet.
I could keep praying and keep going to Primary. I could be an example for Julie, and maybe I could even ask Mom to fast for me next week.
The peaceful feeling stayed with me as I headed down to dinner. I didn’t know when, but one day I would be baptized. And it would be worth the wait.
Six months later, two days before her ninth birthday, Sadie’s dad gave her permission to be baptized.

Although Grant Heaton, president of the newly opened Southern Far East Mission, was merely looking for advice about teakwood furniture that August day in 1955, he found much more than that in Ng Kat Hing. He found a language teacher, a convert, a missionary, a Church leader—a true pioneer.
Reaching out to people has always been one of Brother Ng’s talents. In fact, it was his willingness to serve others that put him in even closer contact with the missionaries. After ordering furniture for the mission home, Brother Ng agreed to help President Heaton find someone to teach Cantonese to the missionaries. He talked to several friends, but none of them could help. So he quit his job at the furniture store and taught the missionaries himself. Married and the father of four young children, Brother Ng took a cut in salary with the job change. But he believes it was well worth it.
“I learned the truth,” Brother Ng states simply. “That was a good deal, right? Nothing is more important than that.”
The men took turns learning and teaching. Brother Ng presented basic language lessons, and the missionaries taught gospel discussions. At that time, investigators were taught a total of 18 discussions, so Brother Ng went through several sets of missionaries before hearing all the lessons.
“It took quite a while,” he acknowledges, “but by the time I was baptized, all my questions were answered. I had a strong foundation and a strong testimony.”
Brother Ng was baptized on 31 May 1956. He was one of the first converts after missionary work resumed in Hong Kong following the Korean War.

“I don’t want to go to church today,” said Missy as she stretched a blanket over her head.
“Why not?” her mother asked. “I thought you liked Primary.”
“Sister Hanes won’t be my teacher anymore. I don’t want to go into a new class and have a new teacher!”
“Missy, I know you’ll miss Sister Hanes, but I’m sure you’ll like your new teacher too.”
“I don’t think so,” answered Missy, peeking out.
“Well, at least give her a chance. She might surprise you.”
“We’ll see,” said Missy, dragging herself out of bed.
During Sunday School opening exercises, Missy’s eyes searched the faces of the congregation as she wondered who her new teacher would be. Whoever it was wouldn’t be as great as Sister Hanes, Missy was sure.
As singing period ended and everyone began leaving the chapel for their classes, Missy clutched her mother’s hand. “Will you take me to Primary?”
“Of course, honey,” her mother said. They were the first to arrive except for the teachers and leaders. As Missy looked at the teachers, she saw a man she didn’t know. I wonder what he’s doing in the chair my new teacher will have, she thought. Before Missy could think about it anymore, her mother was introducing herself to this stranger. “Hello. I’m Sister Franks, and this is my daughter, Missy.”
“Hello, Missy,” the man said cheerfully. “I’m Brother Tailor, your new Primary teacher. I’m going to need some help today because I’m new in your ward. Can you help me?”
“What kind of help?” Missy asked, surprised.
“Well, for one thing, could you introduce me to the other children in the class?”
“Sure,” Missy said, forgetting to be shy.
“I’d really appreciate it,” he said.
Missy let go of her mother’s hand and stood next to her new teacher. As her classmates came in, she grinned at them and said, “Megan, Philip, Craig, and Sandy, this is Brother Tailor. He’s our new Primary teacher!”

Dieuveut Demosthène, 18, and Robenson Marcel Laroque Jean, 19, are the best of friends. And they intend to keep it that way. Forever.

“We were neighbors, and we played basketball together,” Robenson explains. “I joined the Church when I was 16, and after a while I suggested to Dieuveut that he should come too. I prayed a lot, and I persisted. Now look at him, a strong member of the Church. I’m proud of him.”

“Robenson invited me many times,” Dieuveut says, “and over time I accepted. He has always spoken with superb words, like he understands everything. So his invitation wasn’t worrisome; it was extraordinary. After a while I started having lessons with the missionaries, and I joined the Church when I was 17.”

That’s the ideal way for missionary work to be done—friends sharing the gospel with friends and giving referrals to the missionaries to teach them. “From me—one person in the Church—now we are two, and we continue the same work together,” Robenson says. As a result of their efforts, one of Dieuveut’s big brothers and another friend have also joined the Church. One became two, and two became four.

Rather, Dieuveut says, as people realize the happiness the gospel brings, the Church in Haiti will keep growing. “I am truly grateful to Robenson for sharing the gospel with me,” he says, “and that’s why I want to share the gospel with others. Last week I asked myself, in the past did I know what joy was? Because today, even if I don’t have everything materially that I want, I always feel at peace with myself. I have a great hope that I will be close to my Heavenly Father.”

“I’m already trying to be a missionary,” Robenson says. “Each day I carry my backpack with several copies of the Book of Mormon in it, just to share with others. Many of them know I’m a member of the Church, and I’m eager to share my testimony. To go on a full-time mission will be a great opportunity to serve God by serving His children. It is my great desire to go.”

Dieuveut says he often talks with returned missionaries. “They have told me how the Lord was able to bless people through the missionaries, and I would like to share in such blessings. They have told me how they lived in the mission field, how much they enjoyed it. Also, after their missions, they are worthy, good examples. I want to be like that.”

What will the future bring? “Heavenly Father has His plan for Haiti,” Dieuveut says. “He is giving members here the opportunity to become strong. It is Haitians teaching Haitians, and that will bless us.”

Robenson will soon receive his mission call, and he hopes it’s to Haiti. Dieuveut won’t be far behind and also hopes to serve in his native land. But whether they’re called to Haiti or to some other country, they know that they will make many more friends in the Church and that their own friendship will continue. Because when you’re friends in the gospel, you’re friends for eternity.