HAMILTON, New Zealand — "He will be my eyes," said Ani Putaranui of Otarata in 1914, a blind grandmother, as she held her newborn grandson.

Photo by John Hart

John Apiti, 89, underwent 26 surgeries for burns doctors thought were fatal and didn't treat at first.

And so John Apiti, the sixth child in his family, was given to his grandmother to rear and be her eyes. This was a common practice among Maori people; when a family had sufficient children to feed, an additional one was occasionally given to relatives to raise. How his grandmother without sight reared an active baby, then toddler, then boy and young man is a fact to ponder, but not doubt, for he became her eyes and developed additional insights in his conviction of the gospel. He expresses his insights through poetry, a hobby others enjoy as well.

Today, he is without peer as the sole surviving student of the Church's Maori Agricultural College, an institution that produced many leaders from 1913 until it was destroyed by earthquake in 1931. Brother Apiti was a student there, on break from the school when the earthquake struck. He remembers afterwards one shaken student sleeping outside under the fence. If an earthquake came, this student planned to grab the wire and hang on in case the land beneath him began to fissure, said Brother Apiti.

He is also the survivor of severe burns and 26 subsequent surgeries.

A quiet, highly respected man given to thinking before he speaks, and tersely at that, he continues to work a small farm in Kawhia, about an hour-and-a-half from the New Zealand Temple. The longtime faithful temple patron now comes via gratis rides as he no longer drives his old truck.

In years past, before he had a truck, John Apiti rode his bicycle many miles to attend meetings while district clerk, often in the cold, driving rain and at night. He remembers well the era when Matthew Cowley, later of the Quorum of the Twelve, served as mission president and held memorable annual conferences, called Hui Tau, and the social and spiritual outpourings that accompanied them.

Even now, in his 90th year, his eyes that once looked in behalf of his grandmother are full of her exuberance for the gospel. His grandparents were original converts from before the turn of the 20th century. Grandfather Reyhana Putaranui, who was born in 1846, "wanted the real priesthood," said Brother Apiti. "He didn't want the Maori priesthood; he wanted the priesthood of God." After Reyhana Putaranui joined the Church, the Maori ministers confronted the missionaries by telling them Ani Putaranui wasn't baptized as a baby so she couldn't go to heaven.

The missionaries responded with just one question: "How old was Jesus when He was baptized?"

"[The minister] put his foot pretty deep in it there," said Brother Apiti. "Grandfather began to giggle."

Two decades later, when young John learned to read, Grandmother Ani asked him to read her the scriptures.

"I thought I was reading the scriptures to her, both in Maori and pakeha [English]," he said. "Oh, no. That is how she taught me. [She knew the scriptures well because] if I couldn't pronounce a word, she'd help me. She'd heard the scriptures before and she could quote a lot of scriptures."

As he read the scriptures, "I always wished I could have lived when the Savior was living so I could have seen the miracles . . . but I lived in a time of miracles. My grandfather's second youngest daughter, Pirehununu, died at 14 years old. My grandfather blessed her to live again after she died, and she lived again.

"My grandmother said, 'Why did you wait to bless her until she died?' "

He recalled another blessing when his wife became ill and was hospitalized. Brother Apiti promised the Lord that if He would "look after my wife, I will look after your Church."

She was in the hospital for 14 months but recovered to live another 30 years.

"I have seen some marvelous administrations of the priesthood," Brother Apiti said. "All the credit goes to our Heavenly Father."

Another of the blessings of the priesthood came in his own life after he was burned. The accident happened when he was handling diesel and some of it spilled on live coals. The flaming liquid exploded into his face and covered his body. He fell and rolled leaving burned spots in the grass. By the time the flames were extinguished, he was charred over much of his body. When he finally reached the hospital the nurses and doctors didn't treat him. At the sight of his injuries they gave up and left him on a table to die. But his priesthood leaders and the students at the Church College began fasting and praying for him.

He prayed, too.

"I couldn't see a thing, I couldn't do a thing," he recalled. "It got lonelier and lonelier. I am used to solitude, but I couldn't take that. They reckoned I was dead. I prayed to the Lord. All I said was, 'Lord, if you know this place, draw a little nearer.' Before [then,] I could see my life going away, going away like a river. But when He arrived, it started to flow back.

"When I came to and felt the pain, I knew I was not dead because I could feel the pain. I said I would be glad to be burned all over again to be so close to that life-giving source. The pain was excruciating but my joy was above that because the Lord had answered my prayer."

His eyes were spared.

Elder Glen L. Rudd, a former member of the Seventy, met Brother Apiti in 1984 while president of the Hamilton New Zealand Temple.

"His physical appearance was actually somewhat dreadful but there was nothing depressing about him," said Elder Rudd. "The more we knew him, the better we loved him." He "is a great soul and I honor him for his courage and his ability to endure in spite of unbelievable pain and difficulty."

Pausing to observe the accomplishments of the present Church while being interviewed near the temple, Brother Apiti said, "We have 60,000 missionaries now. No Church in the world can duplicate that. There is only one answer to it. The Church is true."

After pausing again, he concluded. "I think [we] need another 60,000 missionaries."

E-mail: jhart@desnews.com