There Isn't A Person You Can't Love.....

Had a great time at church today,
I'm excited to share a recap with you.

It was a well spent four hour block of time.

I say 4 hours.....rather than the normal 3, 

because McCauley and I have joined the choir!!

Sheeeesh.

We don't know what we are doing.....

at least I don't.

M is lucky enough to have music a few times a week at school,

she is really enjoying it.

I am bumbling my way along.

I won't lie....

It is torture making myself walk in that room and stay that extra hour....

however, once we get going, 

the time scoots by pretty quickly.

It's just the getting started part,
 the part when you see everyone else walking out to their

cars to go gorge themselves on food and sleep.

Jealousness.

I tell myself this is only temporary.....just until after Christmas.

..................

Anyway,

sacrament was excellent.

We had three great speakers, a youth speaker, and 

a sister that is fairly new to our ward that I don't know well.

She shared some personal experiences with us,

and a strong testimony. I know her much better now.

I am happy for that, and thankful for the trust she had in us to open up.

The last speaker, a brother in our ward was giving a good talk,

just kind of going along.

I was listening, 

but sometimes veering off to watch these guys.....

 The Jorgensen's have twins.....they are hard not to stare at.

At one point McCauley had her head down, 

and suddenly popped 

up and said that she had counted the speaker saying 42 ums so far.

oh. K. 

This surprised me, 

because  

I had actually also started mentally counting them as well.

(stay with me....this sounds like I am bashing this poor brother,

I am not....hang in there)

When at last he came to what he really felt inspired to say

to us today,

his entire countenance changed.

 His talk became personal,

and meaningful to him,

which in turn, made it personal for us and brought 

him into full focus, for me at least.

The ums were lost,

 and he was now speaking from his heart.

He said that the sister before him had changed what he had

intended to say for the course of his talk.

She had shared how her father had died,

and he felt impressed to share his own experience.

He was on his mission when he got a call from his mission president 

to come to the mission home.

When he got there, 

the president told him that he needed to call home.

This brother said that he thought the mission president was 

testing him or something,

because just the previous week he had called home for Mother's Day.

No,

go call home son.

He spoke with his mom, she told him that his father had passed away that morning

from a sudden heart attack.

He was shocked.

It was so sudden.

The loss so full and instant.

After as he was alone, the emptiness was terrible.

He prayed.

He told us that he prayed for Christ's Atonement to work in his life.

He was filled with a deep love and peace.

It filled him up.

He was sharing the experiences of his heart.

The spirit was very tender.

Throughout it all,

 I kept thinking of my own dad.

This brother sort of looked like him.

I'm serious....when he was much younger.

But the thing that really got me, 

was when this fellow pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket.

He said he is always prepared.

My dad also, 

always carries a folded, ironed, white handkerchief.

That used to be one of my few jobs when I was younger,

ironing dad's white hankies.

First,

 lay them out and iron flat, then iron in half,

then fold into fourths, 

iron. 

Repeat all the way down to a small square.

I liked seeing my little stack grow tall.

My dad had a ton of hankies.

This brother did something else like my dad,

he dabbed his eyes and nose, just like him!

It was so great.

I realized this is a wonderful association I have for my father,

one I was not aware of before.

Just the other day I practically broke into tears at Publix because

I saw a box of brightly colored straws.....

these make me think of my mom!

Life is precious.

Memories.

Relationships.

Sharing.

............................

The second best part of church was during Sunday School.

Again, Brother W nailed it, 

but with something that at first 

sounded kind of simple and insignificant.

He likes to go around the room and have people introduce themselves 

and share something personal.

A few weeks ago it was something others would not know about us.

This week he asked us to share, 

THE NICEST THING ANYONE HAS EVER DONE FOR US.

Ok, easy, one popped right into my head.

As we went around the room I was astounded time and 

again with the precious insight I was glimpsing 

into each person's life.  

I don't really know any of the people in the class well.

Some are brand new converts,

others are just coming back to church,

still others, like me,

 come to this class because it is a little more low key,

back to basics.

Several are missionaries.

Here are a few Nice Things I made note of:

Brother V said he remembers the time when he was 10 years old,

he was supposed to mow a yard for someone, but did not show up.

His older brother went and did the job for him,

and then took him horseback riding with the 

money earned from the job.

A sister missionary shared the time her older brother 

gave her a piggy back ride up the temple steps 

when she had a cast on her leg.

A brother shared that he had left the church

23 years ago, but the nicest thing was that the 

sister missionaries found him at the library

and invited him back.

Jim told us of the time his car broke down in a blizzard

going up Parleys Canyon,

he got out to walk to a gas station.

A woman with three small children stopped to pick 

him up.

He said he thought she was crazy.

He could kill all of them!

What was she doing?

But he was so very thankful for her kindness.

He has thought of it many times since.

One of the missionaries shared an experience

from when he was about 10 or so.

He spoke about his dad, and how he had just gotten

a really cool new running shirt.

It was a very nice material and they both really 

liked it.

They went on a bike ride together that day.

The missionary crashed his bike and badly banged up

his head.

He remembered his dad taking off his new shirt and

ripping it up to wrap his head and stop the 

bleeding.

One man simply said that the nicest thing that anyone

has ever done for him was that is wife saved his life.

That was all he could say.

You should have seen his sweet wife.

I was sitting right beside these two....they reached 

across laps and held hands.

One brother, had asked to be skipped at first,

so Bro. W came back to him.

He told about the time when he was 14,

he was at a baseball game,standing against a tree. 

Overhead was a big bees nest,

they swarmed him and he was badly stung.

He said at that time a girl came up to him

and gave him a hug.

He had never had that in his life.

He felt such compassion from her....he 

feels that was how he first learned to have 

compassion for others.

..............

The stories went on.

All heart felt.

Many life changing....

yet they were all simple acts of kindness from another person,

however

 the effects had significant impact on the one receiving.

It reinforced one of my very favorite quotes:

"There is not a person you can't love, once you 

hear their story".

How true this is.

The way our lives are shaped and molded, and our views and beliefs

become our own is so amazing....

Intertwined and tangled with our daily experiences

and contact with others.

I feel a deeper admiration and respect for the brothers and sisters

in that little class.... 

I wish I could hear more.....from the whole ward....

my neighbors....the mailman....

You know what I mean?

I wonder if reading those snippets gave you the same sense 

it gave me in that room.....

I wish you could have been there.

............................

The nicest thing anyone did for me......there are many 

(as everyone said)

but the one that came to mind very first was on my birthday when

I was around 11 or so.

I had had a lousy day at school.....

kind of felt forgotten and insignificant.

I was down in my basement room after school....

possibly crying,

when my mom came and told me I had a visitor.

What?

Who?

For me?

Come on up and see.

My primary, or beehive teacher stood in our foyer holding 

a small round pink cake, with my name

printed in frosting on it.

Mindy

(that was what I went by then)

I could not believe my eyes.

She had remembered ME.  

You made this for me??

You took time out of your busy day to come see me?

She did.

That little cake changed my day.

It left a mark on my life and memory.

I have never tasted a cake more delicious.

The sweet feeling and confidence boost was precious to me.

 I have wondered....

did my teacher do this for each lucky member of her class?

Or was she on an errand from Heavenly Father to rescue a little 

insecure girl for that day?

...................

The best part is......who are you rescuing, 

and doing the 

Nicest Thing EVER for,

and aren't even aware of it every single day of your life?

That is our potential.

I would LOVE to hear your nicest thing.

Please tell me.