Living Life: “Unto One of the Least of These”
I recently received an email from a dear friend, Kimberly Tremblay, who had been a friend to my son Jonathan many years ago. Because Jonathan introduced her to me, she and I became acquainted and have been good friends all these years. In Kimberly’s email, she attached a talk she had recently given in church. Her talk was centered on the scripture, “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself” (Matthew 22:39). Kimberly recounted an experience she had with me many years ago. This story still brings tears to my eyes when I think about it, but there is a backstory which also needs to be told to understand how my love and desire to help people has grown over the years.
Our family lived in Columbus, Mississippi in 1993 when racial tensions still flared. Because we have always enjoyed being around all races and learning about different cultures, we were now anticipating what we might learn in the South. Fortunately, we lived across the street from a wonderful family who were black, and we developed a true friendship between us. Their kids came over to play basketball at our house, and our kids went over to their house to swim. We had many good conversations with them, although all their other neighbors who were white refused to speak to them. It was such a sad, unnecessary situation in our neighborhood. We were grateful for the many other friends who were black whom we came to know and love that year we lived in Columbus.
One day I needed to go to the doctor. After seeing the doctor, I went to the square cubicle where I was supposed to pay my bill. This cubicle had two sides, which allowed two persons at a time to pay their bills. As I stepped up to my window to pay my bill, I could see a poor, sick black man with shaking hands on the other side. I could easily hear the receptionist scornfully saying these angry words to him, “If you don’t have enough money to pay to see a doctor, you shouldn’t be coming here! We’re not a charity!”
The man put his shaking hands into his pockets and pulled out a few one-dollar bills and some loose change, which she angrily refused to accept. Instead, she spoke to him sharply in a humiliating tone, “You know that’s not enough!”
Into my mind came the words, “Pay his bill.”
This thought startled me, and I immediately started thinking of all the reasons I couldn’t afford to pay his bill. The most important reason was that we were saving our money to buy new tires for our car, which we desperately needed.
Once again into my mind came the words, “Pay his bill.”
Once again, I ignored what I knew was a spiritual prompting. I paid my own bill, turned around, and quickly walked to my car. As I looked out my rearview mirror, I could see this poor, sick, shaking man walking dejectedly to his car. I sat in my car and cried. I knew I should have paid his bill, even though I didn’t know logically how I could afford to do so.
A week later, David’s father came to visit us. When he found out we needed new tires, he bought them for us. We were so grateful.
I cried once again because I finally understood the spiritual prompting that told me to pay that sick man’s bill. God knew ahead of time that my father-in-law was going to bless us by buying our new tires. I could have blessed this stranger’s life by paying his medical bill. My heart still aches for ignoring the needs of this man.
Because of that sad experience, I have tried to follow the clear, spiritual promptings that come to me from time to time. The following story is my friend Kimberly's account of when we were together in Baltimore, Maryland. I share it not to boast, but to illustrate how spiritual promptings can come to us. The prompting might not be what we might expect, but I’ve learned that even if it doesn’t make sense to your logical mind, do it anyway:
On our drive down to the Washington D.C. temple, Kristine’s husband David had some business in Baltimore. While he attended a meeting, myself and Kristine and her son Andrew, who was getting ready to go on a mission, went down to the docks to have a picnic lunch. After eating, as we were walking, a man asked us if we had any spare change. I said no and kept walking; I don’t think I even looked at him. Kristine however stopped, checked her pockets and then looked him in the eye and said, “No, I’m sorry, I don’t.” We continued walking a little way and then Kristine stopped and said, with excitement, “We don’t have any money, but we do have food. We can make him a sandwich.” She ran back over to him and asked him if he wanted a sandwich and he politely said thank you and that he would like one.
She proceeded to make him a couple sandwiches, asking him if he would like mayonnaise and mustard and whatever other toppings she had. She found an extra bag and put everything in the bag for him and then walked over to him and held it out to him with her great big, beautiful smile, full of love and the Spirit.
And then she did something that surprised me, she asked this homeless man in tattered dirty clothing if she could give him a hug and he said yes, and so she hugged him. It was not a quick hug either. I could see the man’s face and with tears in his eyes he thanked her.
At which point I think we all had tears in our eyes. It was a sacred experience. The Spirit was so strong. It truly felt as though the Savior himself was in our midst and that Kristine was doing exactly what He would have done if He had been there. And then the man said to Kristine, “Ma’am, please pray for me,” and she told him she would. And the words of a scripture and hymn came to my mind, “By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love, one to another” (Matthew 13:35). This man knew that Kristine was a disciple of Jesus Christ because he felt the love of Jesus Christ through her. That experience, witnessing Kristine’s example of Christlike love for a stranger, was a gift to me.
Since that sweet experience in Baltimore, when I was able to feed and hug that tall black stranger who was not only hungry for food but also for love, I have always tried to carry one-dollar bills in my purse or pocket to give to those in need. I know not everyone agrees with my attitude of giving to the poor, but I feel in my heart it’s the right thing for me to do. My son Jonathan was homeless at different times in his life, and I know he stayed alive from the handouts of other people. Whenever I give to someone in need, I think of Jonathan.
Years later, my son Matt and I got out of our car and were walking on the sidewalk to enter a store where we planned to buy some things he needed for his mission. A man came up to us and asked if we had any spare change that we could give him. I quickly looked into my purse to see if I might have a one-dollar bill, but I only had a twenty-dollar bill. I hesitated for a few seconds and then pulled out the $20. I handed it to the man, and he genuinely said in amazement, “Thank you! God bless you!”
I smiled and sincerely responded, “God bless you!”
As Matt and I continued walking towards the store, he looked at me with a questioning look in his eyes. I simply said, “That was for Jonathan.” Matt gave me a little smile and said, “I thought so.”
“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.”