I frequently think of the story told by Elder Russell M. Nelson in general conference about going on a mission tour with another general authority in a dusty location.  He often got up in the morning to find that his companion had shined his shoes.  Elder Nelson wondered how many other missionaries in the world had companions who were that thoughtful.  (General conference, October 1986).  I think, too, of the Baxter family back home who eagerly looked forward to snowstorms so that they could rise early, and secretly shovel driveways for unsuspecting neighbors and friends.

Marjorie became briefly disoriented yesterday as she left to go to conduct piano lessons.  She climbed the hill above our house to where our pickup was parked, and couldn’t find it.  Our pickup is dark-gray and muddy from traversing the awful roads here in Vanuatu.  A shiny, light-gray pickup was sitting where ours should have been.  She looked over her shoulder and then back at the shiny pickup as her mind struggled to identify the pickup as ours.  It took her mind a little time to grasp the fact that our neighbors had washed it inside and out.

Why would anyone do such a thing?  What were they thinking and feeling while performing the service?  How are such acts received?

I can answer all three questions.

Such service is activated by love.  Few feelings are as pleasant and rewarding as imagining the looks of surprise and consternation on the faces of the recipients at the moment of discovery.  And the recipient of such acts experiences waves of love for his unexpected benefactor.  How could he do otherwise?

I was interested to note my own reactions to Marjorie’s announcement about our unexpected gift.  I suddenly loved these people to an extent that I hadn’t before.  Their concerns were suddenly my concerns.  I found myself upon my knees asking blessings upon them.  They had confided their concerns about one of their family members, and I found myself fervently praying for this person I’d never met.  That wouldn’t have happened had our friends not reached out to us with such an unselfish act of love.

What if I similarly reached out to someone who was more difficult to love?  Would my own feelings toward that person change?  Would that change his feelings toward me?  What changes might that bring in a family relationship or in a missionary companionship?

Jesus taught that we must even love our enemies, bless those that curse us, and do good to those that hate us.  (Matt. 5:44).  And He said that “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”  (Matt. 25:40).  Surely such secret acts of service are pleasing to the Lord.