My father’s desire to serve others often went beyond his capacity to do so, considering his many responsibilities. Undaunted, he found a solution: he’d enlist others to provide the needed service on his behalf. He would call carefully selected individuals and say, “Is this my friend Mac? This is Tom. How would you like to paint a bright spot on your soul today?” Translated, this meant that President Monson needed a “service-favor.” “Mac” was only too happy to comply.
We do not need to be the President of the Church to notice another’s need and “paint a bright spot on our souls.” My dad acted upon his frequent feeling, “That would be a kind thing to do,” only to find it was the answer to another’s prayer. By following the promptings of the Spirit, our simple acts of service can also be answers to prayers, and we can carry on this legacy by serving others.
A little over a year ago, my father and I visited another longtime friend, who was 94 years old and gravely ill. In a booming voice, my father said, “Is that my friend Brent Goates?” Brother Goates opened his eyes and said with great effort and emotion, “Tom, you came. Wonderful. Wonderful.”
My dad explained, “Brent, there is no place I would rather be than right here with you. It’s where the Lord would have me be.” My father spoke with him as though they were both young again and Brent was a vibrant, capable man; he then gave Brother Goates a priesthood blessing. As we left and walked down the sidewalk to the car, my father said, “The Lord gave us the priesthood to serve and to bless others. This is a great blessing to visit my friend and let him know he is remembered. I feel we’ve done some good today, Ann.” That day my father couldn’t stop smiling. He was whistling. He was happy.
Watching him, I realized my dad knew how to obtain true joy. Through his devoted service, he had learned that joy comes from loving the Lord and serving your neighbor. This joy is available to each of us. There is no better way to honor my father, the prophet, and our Savior Jesus Christ than to live every day so that at its close we can truly say, “I feel I’ve done some good today.”
February 2018, Ensign, Memorial of Thomas S. Monson, Ann Dibb
