Gospel Story Finder

Institute Celebrates with Service Weekend
During a break in university terms, the three Hamilton stakes and the young single adult ward focused on enrolling for institute for the next semester. The theme for the institute weekend was “Joseph Smith and Young Adults—True to the Values.” Following a mix-and-meet opening activity, the activity turned toward service.
Project number one was at Hamon’s Bush, just west of the Temple View Community, where Elder and Sister Roger Hamon are serving as missionaries. The young adults planted native trees on what has come to be known as Institute Hill.
Project number two saw young adults mingling with other Temple View stake members in another tree-planting project for the Hamilton City Council.
The third service project involved making quilts and donating soft toys for the children’s ward at the Waikato Hospital. The young adults donated 29 quilts and 4 large sacks of soft toys to the hospital during this activity.
Spearheading the toy project was Amy Howard, who said recent stays with her son in the hospital made her want to do something to brighten it up for the young patients. The children will be able to play with the toys and take one of their favorites home with them after their stay.

Once I prayed and prayed for a nice school teacher for the new year. After many months of praying, I was put in my new class, and my new teacher is so nice and happy and teaches with love. I said a thank-you prayer to Heavenly Father for answering my prayers and for taking care of me and my worries. I am so happy that we can pray to Heavenly Father about anything, anywhere, and He’ll help us.
Ava C., age 7, Utah, USA

Wilmer Buenconsejo felt privileged to be one of the drivers taking Elder and Sister Bednar to their appointments, but he was also nervous. He had to strike a balance between driving at a safe pace and making sure that an apostle of the Lord would not be late for his speaking engagements. “The calm and collected manner of Elder Bednar eased my worries and he spoke nicely to me,” he shared. “After we arrived at the venue ahead of schedule, he smiled at me and said ‘thank you.’”

I have a sweet feeling in my heart about President Spencer W. Kimball, who was the prophet when I was baptized. He was a great influence in my life. When I was a new member, he shook my hand in São Paulo, and I have never forgotten it. At one general conference he asked the members to stay out of debt, and I decided I would. In Brazil we have inflation and a lot of financial troubles, but I have never had debts. I am not a rich man, and my family has had many challenges. But we have always overcome them because we followed this wise advice.

On 18 September 1989, Marc Modersitzki and Bradley Saunderson entered Lesotho, the first young missionaries assigned to teach the gospel in this small mountainous kingdom. Three member families excitedly awaited their arrival: the Masseys, the Scotts, and the Daffendols. These three families formed a group with Brother Massey as the group leader. All were anxious to begin doing missionary work with the new elders. By the end of the first two weeks, the missionaries had 18 families in their teaching pool.
Elder Saunderson recorded in his journal, “I am impressed with the incredible potential that the area has: its fields are very white.” In the first month of tracting, they were refused only four times.
Sister Scott, the mother of one of the families who met the elders on their arrival, was so excited about the first convert baptism that she wanted it to take place at her home. However, the Scotts did not have a pool, so Brother Scott bought a lattice wall pool. The next problem was that there was no level spot on their property big enough to put the pool. That did not dampen their enthusiasm. With the help of Brother Lawrence Van Tonder, one of the first two to be baptized, they dug up the Scotts’ backyard to accommodate the pool.
Thanks to the many efforts of members and missionaries, there are now more than 1,300 members in Lesotho.

After the closing prayer, I carefully watched Sister Forester, the Primary president. Because I’m deaf, she always smiles and nods at me when it is time for my Merrie Miss class to leave Primary. Her lips shape the words, “You may leave now.”
But Sister Forester’s mouth formed different words this time. “Melissa, please stay after Primary.”
I watched the other girls move by in their pastel and print dresses. Why was I supposed to stay? I hadn’t done anything wrong. Or had I?
I usually have to read the lips of people at church, but Sister Forester knows sign language. She told me once that her sister was deaf. Now she beckoned me to meet her on the Primary stand. I sat down beside her. The scent of her perfume tickled my nose. Then she moved her lips. “Would you sing for our special Father’s Day program next month?”
Something in my stomach turned to a hard lump, and I felt the blood rush to my face. Was Sister Forester making fun of me? She knew that I couldn’t sing. Even when I tried talking, other children sometimes made fun of the sounds that came from my throat.
Every Sunday I ached inside when all the other children sang and I had to sit there on the hard metal chairs in silence. I learned the words, and tried to imagine what music was. But I knew that as long as I lived, I would never sing a word. There was no music for a deaf person.
But looking into Sister Forester’s eyes now, I saw only kindness. I knew she wasn’t joking. Quickly I signed, “I can’t sing. I’m deaf.”
Sister Forester reached out her hand. I felt the back of her fingers touch my cheek. Then her mouth formed the words, “I don’t want you to sing with your voice. I want you to sing with your hands. Would you sign the words to the first verse of ‘I Believe in Christ’ while the other children sing them?”
The knot in my stomach tightened. I knew she was trying to be kind, trying to find something for me to do, but it would be so hard. How would I know how fast to move my arms, when to start, when to stop? I asked Sister Forester, and she said that she would give me special signals.
I told her I would think about it and talk to my parents.
Sister Forester smiled, then signed, “Could you talk to Heavenly Father, too, since it’s His Son you will be singing about?” Then her lips moved again. “If He doesn’t want you to do it, that’s OK.”
I felt relieved. Sister Forester wouldn’t force me, and I knew my parents would let me choose. I promised that I would pray about it. I thought that Heavenly Father wouldn’t want me to look silly in church, either.
But when I asked Heavenly Father, His Spirit came through the silence and warmed my heart, and I knew that I should do it.
“But I’m scared,” I told Him. “What if everyone laughs at my funny signs?” Then I cried.
I practiced hard for the next month. One day each week I went to Sister Forester’s house. She had been a dancer, and she taught me to move my arms and hands in slow, soft motions as I signed the words. She said that the movements were like music and that with practice I could turn my signs into a gorgeous melody. Her words were kind, but I wasn’t sure.
When I woke up the morning of the program, I wanted to be sick. I lay in bed and buried my face in my pillow. I thought about how silly I would look as I waved my arms around. To people who didn’t understand sign language, I would look like an octopus.
Dad must have guessed that I was having trouble. He came in my room and sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes smiled kindly. “Are you afraid?” he asked.
I nodded.
He held out his arms. I rolled over and sat up. Dad’s arms wrapped around me. Then gently he pushed me back so that I could see his face. “Sister Forester told me that you remind her of an angel when you sing ‘I Believe in Christ’ your way. She believes that the ward members will enjoy your song very much.”
Dad’s words didn’t seem to help, but having him close to me did. His lips moved again. “If you become frightened, just remember Whom you are singing about.”
Even you don’t understand, Dad, I thought. Moving your hands isn’t singing at all.
An hour later I was standing at the podium in front of a microphone I wouldn’t use. My mouth was dry. The ward members filled the chapel, and the clock on the back wall seemed to have stopped. Sister Forester was signaling that it was nearly time for me to start.
I lifted my arms. They felt like wriggly worms that didn’t want to obey my head. My heart pounded, and I wasn’t sure that I could remember all the movements Sister Forester had taught me. The atmosphere around me seemed thicker than usual. Why couldn’t I hear? Why couldn’t I sing like other children?
Sister Forester gave me the signal, and I began moving my arms and hands to her rhythm. “I believe in Christ …”
I saw Sister Forester smile, and Dad’s words came to me: “Remember Whom you are singing about.” A warmth came into my heart. I pushed the fear away and sang the only way I knew how.
Sister Forester and I worked together, just as we had practiced. My hands moved effortlessly as I signed the words. But I wasn’t performing. I was bearing my testimony through song. Finally I signed the last words: “Good works were His; His name be praised.”
Finished, I looked down from the stand. Everyone’s eyes seemed to be on me. I saw tears on the cheeks of gray-haired Brother Hansen. Sister Frankel was dabbing her eyes under her glasses with a handkerchief. Sister Forester smiled like she does in Sharing Time when she’s trying not to cry. Even Mom and Dad were wiping tears off their smiling faces.
Then I knew why Sister Forester and Heavenly Father had asked me to do this. It was to teach me that songs about the Savior come from the heart, not the lips or the hands. Now I know that He hears the songs of all the silent children in the world. He always has. He always will.

“When I completed high school I wanted to go to the university. My mother said, ‘Tell me you are not a Mormon and I will let you go to the university. If you tell me you are a Mormon, you will never go to school.’ I said, ‘Mother, I am a Mormon.’ ‘That’s enough,’ she said.
“I didn’t even try to take the entrance examination.”
Instead, Brother Khanakam studied at the English Language Center in Chiang Mai, and eventually he successfully applied for a position with an American professor studying in Thailand. Later, with his mother’s approval, he attended the university in Bangkok for almost four years.

We have a legacy in this Church of meeting such challenges. Let me share one simple example from our history. From the earliest days of his arrival in the Salt Lake Valley, Brigham Young focused on building a temple. It was one of his primary goals. After years of work, progress began to be made, but then other events—events that no doubt caused the Saints to feel acted upon—came into play. Our former colleague Richard O. Cowan described one of those events this way:

On July 24, 1857, as the Latter-day Saints were celebrating the tenth anniversary of their entrance into Salt Lake Valley, they received the . . . disturbing news that a potentially hostile United States army was approaching Utah. Not knowing the army’s intentions, Brigham Young had the temple foundation covered with dirt as a precaution. When the army arrived the following year, Temple Square looked like a freshly plowed field, and there was no visible evidence of the temple’s construction. As it turned out, the army marched through Salt Lake City without harming any property and set up its camp some thirty miles to the southwest, near Utah Lake. Even during the years when the army was in Utah, draftsmen in the architect’s office were busy planning the exact size and shape for each of the thousands of stones that would be needed for the temple. With the outbreak of the American Civil War in 1861, the army was needed elsewhere, and it departed from Utah by December of that year. The foundation was uncovered in preparation for work that would resume the following spring.

Now at this point the Saints had survived their version of a pandemic. But they did it while continuing to focus on their temple-building ­“mission” by doing the work the best they could under the circumstances. Once the threat was gone, they returned to the task with eagerness. However, something was different. Professor Cowan continued:

At this time, President Young examined the newly uncovered foundation and became aware that it was defective. He and his associates noticed large cracks and concluded that its small stones held together with mortar could not carry the massive weight of the temple. On January 1, 1862, he announced that the inadequate foundation would be removed and replaced by one made entirely of granite. The footings would be sixteen feet thick. “I want to see the Temple built in a manner that it will endure through the Millennium,” [Brigham Young] later declared.

Now I am certain that Johnston’s Army was not a welcome sight to the Saints in 1857. They may have viewed it as a threat not unlike a pandemic. Their first instinct was just to survive. But they resisted that and continued to work on their prior plans as best they could. And when the danger was gone, they found new insights that allowed them to build an even better and longer-lasting temple. Would they have discovered the cracks in the foundation if their work had not been interrupted by the army? I do not know. But I do know that they emerged from a crisis with a better foundation because they did not abandon the project. They learned that they could act even while being acted upon and that because of Christ’s atoning power, the impact of their actions could overcome all things that acted upon them.

My friends and I were doing a play. There was a girl nobody talked to. My friend said something mean about her, and I did too. I felt really bad about it. The next day my friend made fun of her again. I said, “Maybe she needs a friend.” I went and talked to her. I told her she was doing a good job. She smiled for the rest of practice. I was glad I could make her day a little brighter.
Lauren C., age 11, Utah, USA

One Christmas experience is especially poignant. After describing his destitute circumstances and his feeling that all about him seemed to have so much, he describes a trip he made to town one day before Christmas to buy “something for my chicks.”
“I wanted something to please them, and to mark the Christmas day from all other days—but not a cent to do it with! I walked up and down Main Street, looking into the shop windows … everywhere—and then slunk out of sight of humanity and sat down and wept like a child until my poured-out grief relieved my aching heart; and after awhile returned home, as empty as when I left, and played with my children, grateful and happy … for them.”

Our Heritage includes a brief summary of early church members’ experiences at Kalaupapa: “Beginning in 1866, to prevent the spread of leprosy, Hawaiian officials took people suffering from the disease to the Kalaupapa Peninsula on the island of Molokai. In 1873 Jonathan and Kitty Napela, who were Latter-day Saints, were banished there. Only Kitty had the disease, but Jonathan, who had been sealed to her in the Salt Lake Endowment House, would not leave her there alone. Jonathan later contracted the disfiguring disease, and when he was visited nine years later by a good friend, was hardly recognizable. For some time, he presided over the Saints on the peninsula, who by the year 1900 numbered more than 200. Church leaders did not forget the faithful members who suffered from this debilitating disease and frequently visited the branch to care for their spiritual needs”.

Andy and his mother were sitting near the window. Mother was teaching Andy to tie his shoes.
“It’s hard to do,” said Andy.
“You’re right,” said Mother. “But once you learn how to tie them, you won’t have to wait for anyone to do it for you.”
Mother looked out the window. “Look, Andy, Mrs. Sparrow is teaching her babies to find food.”
“Is it hard for the baby birds to learn to find food?” Andy asked.
“Yes,” said Mother, “but soon they’ll know how to find their own food. Then they won’t have to wait for Mrs. Sparrow to find it for them.”
Andy practiced tying his shoes. He could make the first loop just right. But when he tried to make the second loop, the first one slipped away. “Those birds are lucky,” he said. “They don’t have to tie shoelaces.”
“Maybe they think that you’re lucky,” Mother told him. “You don’t have to hunt for your food. Now, watch carefully what I do.”
Mother showed Andy how to stick his thumb inside the first loop to hold it. Then he could wrap the other shoelace around the loop and tuck the lace under itself. “You can do it. You almost have it,” she encouraged him.
Andy worked at it, then stopped to rest a minute. He watched the sparrows. “Mama, why do the baby birds stay under the bushes?” he asked. “And why don’t they cheep like they did in their nest?”
“The cat might hear or see them and try to catch them,” Mother explained.
The little sparrows stayed together. They watched their mother search for worms. They cocked their heads as they hunted for worms too.
“Look at all the worms they found!” Andy exclaimed as the baby birds fluttered their wings and hopped around under the bush, eating their dinners. “It wasn’t very hard for them to learn to find food.”
Andy tucked the shoelace under itself. He pulled the two loops as tightly as he could. “Look! I did it! I tied my shoe!” He jumped up and down.
“Great!” said Mother. “Let me see you do it again.”
Andy sat down and tied his other shoe. Then he untied them and tied them again. “See! I really can do it! It wasn’t very hard, after all!”
When Andy’s father came home, Andy ran to meet him. “Guess what, Daddy!” he cried. “The baby birds learned to find their food. And I learned to tie my shoes!”

Painting by Tesla S.; illustration by Tracy Bishop
Every Sunday night my dad and I sit down together and work on my goals in my Faith in God booklet. One of the goals I wanted to complete for developing talents was to paint a picture of Christ.
After I made the goal, a friend of mine from school invited me to her first communion. The first communion is a very special occasion in the Catholic Church. It is the first time someone can partake of the sacrament. My friend had done a lot to prepare for her first communion, and I knew it was very important to her.
I decided to paint the picture of Christ to give to her as a present. I worked very hard on my painting. After I finished it, I bought a nice frame to put it in and gave it to my friend. She was very grateful for it. It made me feel good inside to give it to her and to be part of her special day.

After Joseph Smith allowed Martin Harris to take the 116 Book of Mormon manuscript pages, which Martin lost, the plates and Joseph’s gift to translate were taken from him. After repenting and humbling himself in prayer, the plates were returned to him with a promise that someone would come to help him with the translation.
On the 5th day of April, 1829, Oliver Cowdery came to my house. … He stated to me that [while] teaching school in the neighborhood where my father resided, … [my] family related to him the circumstance of my having received the plates, and accordingly he had come to make inquiries of me. Two days after the arrival of Mr. Cowdery … I commenced to translate the Book of Mormon, and he began to write for me.
Whilst continuing the work of translation, during the month of April, Oliver Cowdery became exceedingly anxious to have the power to translate bestowed upon him, and in relation to this desire the following [revelation was] obtained:
“Ask … that you may translate and receive knowledge from all those ancient records which have been hid up, that are sacred; and according to your faith shall it be done unto you” (D&C 8:11).
Oliver Cowdery translated a few words, but was not able to continue. The Lord revealed the reason why:
“Behold, you have not understood; you have supposed that I would give it unto you, when you took no thought save it was to ask me.
“But, behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right.” (D&C 9:7–8.)
About the same time an old gentleman came to visit us … Mr. Joseph Knight, Sen., … who … very kindly and considerately brought us a quantity of provisions, in order that we might not be interrupted in the work of translation by the want of such necessities of life; … he several times brought us supplies, a distance of at least thirty miles. …
Shortly after commencing to translate, I became acquainted with Mr. Peter Whitmer, … and also with some of his family. In the beginning of the month of June, his son, David Whitmer, came … and brought with him a two-horse wagon, for the purpose of having us accompany him to his father’s place, and there remain until we should finish the work. It was arranged that we should have our board free of charge, and the assistance of one of his brothers to write for me, and also his own assistance when convenient. … There [we] resided until the translation was finished and the copyright secured.
Our translation drawing to a close, we went to Palmyra, Wayne county, New York, secured the copyright, and agreed with Mr. Egbert B. Grandin to print five thousand copies for the sum of three thousand dollars.
I wish to mention here that the title-page of the Book of Mormon is a literal translation, taken from the very last leaf, on the left hand side of the collection or book of plates, … and that said title page is not by any means a modern composition.
Oliver Cowdery made a copy of the entire manuscript for the printer so that the original translation could be kept safe. The printer was given only a small number of pages at a time. When manuscript pages were delivered to the printer, whoever was taking them was accompanied by a guard. The guard also guarded the house where the manuscript was kept. All these precautions were taken so that the manuscript wouldn’t be lost or tampered with again. In March 1830 the printing was completed and copies of the book were available for sale.
(See History of the Church, vol. 1, pages 32–76.)

In 2012 the Shamola family traveled almost 3,000 kilometres to the Johannesburg South Africa Temple to be sealed together. However, not having a temple in their home country made it difficult for them to return to the temple to perform ordinances for their ancestors. They were overjoyed when President Thomas S. Monson (1927–2018) announced the construction of the Nairobi Kenya Temple in the April 2017 general conference. They joyfully anticipate having a temple near their home so they can more easily perform ordinances for their ancestors. They are eager to do this work.

This is beautifully illustrated by this story as told by President Faust:

“This story is about the great scientist Henry Eyring, who served on the Bonneville Stake high council. He was responsible for the welfare farm, which included a field of onions that needed to be weeded. At that time, he was nearly 80 and suffering from painful bone cancer. He assigned himself to do weeding even though the pain was so great that he pulled himself along on his stomach with his elbows. The pain was too great for him to kneel. Yet he smiled, laughed, and talked happily with the others who were there that day weeding that field of onions. I now quote what [President] Eyring said of this incident: ‘after all the work was finished and the onions were all weeded, someone [said to] him, “Henry good heavens! You didn’t pull those weeds, did you? Those weeds were sprayed two days ago, and they were going to die anyway.” Dad just roared. He thought that was the funniest thing. He thought it was a great joke on himself. He had worked through the day in the wrong weeds. They had been sprayed and would have died anyway. I asked him, ‘Dad how could you make a joke out of that?’ He said something to me that I will never forget . . . He said, ‘Hal, I wasn’t there for the weeds.’”

I remember many years ago, when we lived in New York, coming back to Utah on vacation and stopping to visit a ninety-one-year-old aunt of my wife’s. She lived alone in a small but comfortable home. At her age, she was completely self-reliant. Her home was clean and orderly; her house was filled with beautiful plants, so well cared for. Around one chair we found the well-used scriptures and other church publications. In our conversations with her we were amazed at her knowledge of current events. At the end of our visit she taught us a great lesson. She said, as we prepared to leave, “You know, I have found in life that it is not enough just to do. You also have to be.”

Anna’s heart sank as she walked into the room and saw the Christmas tree. The water heater in their house had burst, and water was all over the floor. Dad was still trying to clean up the mess. The few presents under the tree were completely soaked.
Anna and her little brothers grabbed some towels and tried to dry the presents. But it didn’t really work. They were a soggy mess.
Anna’s family was going through a hard time. Her dad didn’t have a job right now. Her mom was going to have a baby soon, and she felt sick a lot. And now they wouldn’t have any presents for Christmas.
That night as Anna got ready for bed, she could hear Mom and Dad talking in the kitchen.
“What are we going to do?” Mom asked. It sounded like she was crying. “We don’t have enough money for the house payment, and now we don’t even have presents for the kids.” Anna had an empty, twisty feeling in her stomach.
“We’ll figure something out,” Dad said.
Anna walked into the kitchen. Mom reached out and gave her a big hug. With her arms around Mom’s tummy, Anna felt the baby move. She smiled. “We have a new baby coming. You always say that a baby is a miracle.”
Mom smiled back. “That’s right. We have a lot to be grateful for.”
“We have each other,” Dad said. He kissed the top of Anna’s head. “It’ll be OK.”
On the way to her room, Anna heard her brothers crying. She sat down on David’s bed.
“Everyone is so sad,” David said quietly.
“And we won’t have any presents,” Robbie said, sniffling.
“It’ll be OK,” Anna said again. “You’ll see.”
Before she got into bed, Anna knelt and asked Heavenly Father what she could do for her family. She didn’t have any money to buy presents, but she still had a warm, comforting feeling in her heart.
The next morning, she stayed in bed thinking for a few minutes before getting ready for school. Then an idea came to her! That afternoon she hurried home and did her chores and homework. Then she found some paper and string and a few markers and stickers she had gotten for her birthday. She took them all to her room and closed the door.
Anna almost laughed when she thought about how surprised her family would be. First she folded the paper and tied it together with string to make four booklets. She chose a star sticker to put on Mom’s booklet and a planet for Dad’s. She put a dog for David’s booklet and a rocket for Robbie’s.
Then Anna started drawing. For Mom she drew a picture of herself sweeping the floor. She drew a picture of herself cooking dinner with Dad, one of her playing football with David, and one of her reading a book to Robbie. It took her several days to fill each booklet with pictures.
Finally it was Christmas Eve, and Anna carefully placed her booklets under the tree.
The next morning, she gave each person in her family a booklet. “I like these pictures,” David said. “I like playing football.”
“They’re not just pictures,” Anna said with a sparkle in her eyes. “They’re coupons! The pictures all show things I’ll do for you.”
“This is the nicest gift you could have given us,” Mom said as she looked through her booklet. Anna was thankful that Heavenly Father helped her think of making Christmas coupons. A new baby was coming, and with Heavenly Father’s help, everything really would be OK.

A few years ago I taught a very difficult and troubled group of children in school. I was upset because I had so much trouble teaching them and I found myself depressed and tearful as I left school each day.
One day a woman working with me told me she had been praying for a calming influence to enter my classroom so I could teach. Although she was not a member of the Church, she knew the power of prayer and was, I feel, prompted by the Holy Ghost to tell me of her prayers to remind me what I should do.
I realized that I had been so involved with the problem that I had forgotten to go to the Lord for help. From then on I often found myself on my knees before school began, praying for help and inspiration. As the weeks went by, a calming spirit did enter the classroom and I was able to see I was making some progress with the children. There were still moments of frustration, but I seemed better able to deal with them.

The first Sunday after the fires arrived was a day of sacred memories on Maui. Unable to access two of our church buildings (which were miraculously and thankfully spared), we combined several of our congregations together for sacrament meetings in the same church building serving as the primary shelter for evacuees. Many of these evacuees joined together with the very members who had been serving them food, preparing their bedding, handing out baby supplies, and providing a myriad of other resources. We united, visitors and members alike, in reverence as the emblems of our Savior’s Atonement were passed along the same pews on which many of them had just spent the previous nights sleeping.

I feel to share a scripture with you that comes to my mind about this:
“Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:
“For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in:
“Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.”
And I think it would be okay if I add: “I was caught in a devastating fire and ye took me in.”
“Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink?
“When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee?
“Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?
“And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. [4]

There was such a tender closeness in this church building, and the other church buildings, serving as shelters on the island of Maui because we were trying to serve others the way we thought that the Savior would serve if He was there. And, many of us felt that as people slept on those pews, there couldn’t be anything more beautiful. And, that the Savior was truly pleased with what we were doing.

During one of the meetings, a remarkable bishop whose family lost their home and all their belongings, and whose ward lost a beautiful family in the fire, bore a powerful testimony in both English and Tongan. As he humbly spoke to all in attendance, he said something I was certain many in the congregation had also felt about this uncertain time,: “I was not prepared for this.” After he said these words, an impression immediately and clearly came into my mind: He was uniquely prepared for this.

This uniquely prepared bishop spoke of his love for those in attendance, and bore testimony of the Savior’s love and atoning power. Amidst his own sorrow, he—like so many on Maui at this time—offered words of light and encouragement.

Then something happened which I will never forget. The Tongan saints sang “Ko Hoku Tauhi ‘a Sihova (The Lord is My Keeper).” [5] If you have heard the Tongan people sing together, you know what a special experience it can be. Hearing them sing, and at times attempting to sing along with them, is one of the great blessings of my calling at this time. But this particular hymn and these particular saints seemed to gather the grief of an entire island into their hearts. It felt as though the building shook as their powerful voices lifted heavenward. Many eyes were wet with tears, including those whose eyes were tightly closed while singing to the heavens in faith with all their souls.

It felt as though we were surrounded by light and that heaven’s angels joined in their beautiful harmonies. Now imagine with me this beautiful truth: every one of these people singing, and all the others throughout this church building—both when it was a shelter and when it was the place of our Sunday worship—each was uniquely prepared for what they were facing. They were lifting each other up, “mourn[ing] with those that mourn[ed]… and comfort[ing] those that [stood] in need of comfort.” [6]