How would you like to paint a bright spot on your soul today

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

Doing all I can, to the very best of my ability, has been my goal in any position I have ever held.

I felt a great responsibility when I was called to be secretary of my deacons quorum. I prepared most conscientiously the records I kept, for I wanted to do the very best I knew how to do in that calling. I took great pride in my work. Doing all I can, to the very best of my ability, has been my goal in any position I have ever held.

The Priesthood—a Sacred Gift, President Thomas S. Monson, April 2015 General Conference

The Sweetest Experience In All This Life

I know that the sweetest experience in all this life is to feel His promptings as He directs us in the furtherance of His work. I felt those promptings as a young bishop, guided to the homes where there was spiritual—or perhaps temporal—want. I felt them again as a mission president in Toronto, Canada, working with wonderful missionaries who were a living witness and testimony to the world that this work is divine and that we are led by a prophet. I have felt them throughout my service in the Twelve and in the First Presidency and now as President of the Church. I testify that each one of us can feel the Lord’s inspiration as we live worthily and strive to serve Him
Thomas S. Monson, Looking Back and Moving Forward, General Conference April 2008

Not Only Had I Enjoyed My One-Sided Conversation With Her--I Had Communed with God

I may have missed a meeting, but I harvested a memory.

Let’s hurry along to Redwood Road. There is a much larger home here where many widows reside. Most are seated in the well-lighted living room. But in her bedroom, alone, is one on whom I must call. She hasn’t spoken a word since a devastating stroke some years ago. But then, who knows what she hears?—so I speak of good times together. There isn’t a flicker of recognition, not a word spoken. In fact, an attendant asks if I am aware that this patient hasn’t uttered a word for years. It made no difference. Not only had I enjoyed my one-sided conversation with her—I had communed with God.

Thomas S. Monson, The Long Line of the Lonely, April 1981 General Conference
A Prophet's Voice--Messages from Thomas S. Monson p. 173

I like this because it reminds me of my frequent visits to Aunt Caroline Vincent.  She would not say much as time went on.  Yet I recall after one, one sided conversation with her she turned to me and said, "Thanks for coming."  Tender memories, really.

One of My Favorite All Time Thomas S. Monson Stories

In April of 2000, I felt such direction. I had received a phone call from Rosa Salas Gifford, whom I did not know. She explained that her parents had been visiting from Costa Rica for a few months and that just a week prior to her call, her father, Bernardo Agusto Salas, had been diagnosed with liver cancer. She indicated that the doctors had informed the family that her father would live just a few more days. Her father’s great desire, she explained, was to meet me before he died. She left her address and asked if I could come to her home in Salt Lake City to visit with her father.

Because of meetings and obligations, it was rather late when I left my office. Instead of going straight home, however, I felt impressed that I should drive further south and visit Brother Salas that very evening. With the address in hand, I attempted to locate the residence. In rather heavy traffic and with dimming light, I drove past the location where the road to the house should have been. I could see nothing. However, I don’t give up easily. I drove around the block and came back. Still nothing. One more time I tried and still no sign of the road. I began to feel that I would be justified in turning toward home. I had made a gallant effort but had been unsuccessful in finding the address. Instead, I offered a silent prayer for help. The inspiration came that I should approach the area from the opposite direction. I drove a distance and turned the car around so that I was now on the other side of the road. Going in this direction, the traffic was much lighter. As I neared the location once again, I could see, through the faint light, a street sign that had been knocked down—it was lying on its side at the edge of the road—and a nearly invisible, weed-covered track leading to a small apartment building and a single, tiny residence some distance from the main road. As I drove toward the buildings, a small girl in a white dress waved to me, and I knew that I had found the family.

I was ushered into the home and then to the room where Brother Salas lay. Surrounding the bed were three daughters and a son-in-law, as well as Sister Salas. All but the son-in-law were from Costa Rica. Brother Salas’s appearance reflected the gravity of his condition. A damp rag with frayed edges—not a towel or a washcloth but a damp rag with frayed edges—rested upon his forehead, emphasizing the humble economic circumstances of the family.

With some prompting, Brother Salas opened his eyes, and a wan smile graced his lips as I took him by the hand. I spoke the words, “I have come to meet you.” Tears welled up in his eyes and in mine.

I asked if a blessing would be desired, and the unanimous answer from the family members was affirmative. Since the son-in-law did not hold the priesthood, I proceeded by myself to provide a priesthood blessing. The words seemed to flow freely under the direction of the Spirit of the Lord. I included the Savior’s words found in the Doctrine and Covenants, section 84, verse 88: “I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up.” Following the blessing, I offered a few words of comfort to the grieving family members. I spoke carefully so they could understand my English. And then, with my limited Spanish language ability, I let them know that I loved them and that our Heavenly Father would bless them.

I asked for the family Bible and directed their attention to 3 John, verse 4: “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth.” I said to them, “This is what your husband and father would have you remember as he prepares to depart this earthly existence.”

With tears streaming down her face, Brother Salas’s sweet wife then asked if I would write down the references for the two scriptures I had shared with them so that the family might read them again. Not having anything handy on which I could write, Sister Salas reached into her purse and drew from it a slip of paper. As I took it from her, I noticed it was a tithingreceipt. My heart was touched as I realized that, despite the extremely humble circumstances in which the family lived, they were faithful in paying their tithes.

After a tender farewell, I was escorted to my car. As I drove homeward, I reflected on the special spirit we had felt. I experienced, as well, as I have many times before, a sense of gratitude that my Heavenly Father had answered another person’s prayer through me.

The Priesthood--A Sacred Gift, April 2007 General Conference, Thomas S. Monson

A Prophets Voice - Messages From Thomas S. Monson p. 215

You Found Me Bishop

When I served as a bishop, I noted one Sunday morning that one of our priests was missing from priesthood meeting. I left the quorum in the care of the adviser and visited Richard’s home. His mother said he was working at the West Temple Garage.

I drove to the garage in search of Richard and looked everywhere, but I could not find him. Suddenly I had the inspiration to gaze down into the old-fashioned grease pit situated at the side of the station. From the darkness I could see two shining eyes. Then I heard Richard say, “You found me, Bishop! I’ll come up.” After that he rarely missed a priesthood meeting.

The family moved to a nearby stake. Time passed, and I received a phone call informing me that Richard had been called to serve a mission in Mexico, and I was invited by the family to speak at his farewell testimonial. At the meeting, when Richard responded, he mentioned that the turning point in his determination to fill a mission came one Sunday morning—not in the chapel, but as he gazed up from the depths of a dark grease pit and found his quorum president’s outstretched hand.

Through the years, Richard has stayed in touch with me, telling of his testimony, his family, and his faithful service in the Church, including his calling as a bishop.

My beloved brethren, let us, with faith unwavering and with love unstinting, be bridge builders to the hearts of those with whom we labor. As in the movie, Field of Dreams, if we build it, they will come.
They Will Come, Thomas S. Monson, April 1997 General Conference

A Prophets Voice - Messages From Thomas S. Monson p. 288

When I Desire to Achieve, I Desire to Achive With All My Heart

When I desire to achieve, I desire to achieve with all my heart, whether it be in athletics, in school, in business, or anything else

2003 CES Broadcast, Thomas S. Monson, Life's Greates Decisions

A Prophets Voice - Messages From Thomas S. Monson p. 345

Sometimes We Fathers Forget That Once We, Too, Were Boys, And Boys At Times Can Be Vexing to Parents

Our influence is surely felt in our respective families. Sometimes we fathers forget that once we, too, were boys, and boys at times can be vexing to parents.

I recall how much, as a youngster, I liked dogs. One day I took my wagon and placed a wooden orange crate in it and went looking for dogs. At that time dogs were everywhere to be found: at school, walking along the sidewalks, or exploring vacant lots, of which there were many. As I would find a dog and capture it, I placed it in the crate, took it home, locked it in the coal shed, and turned the latch on the door. That day I think I brought home six dogs of varying sizes and made them my prisoners after this fashion. I had no idea what I would do with all those dogs, so I didn’t reveal my deed to anyone.

Dad came home from work and, as was his custom, took the coal bucket and went to the coal shed to fill it. Can you imagine his shock and utter consternation as he opened the door and immediately faced six dogs, all attempting to escape at once? As I recall, Dad flushed a little bit, and then he calmed down and quietly told me, “Tommy, coal sheds are for coal. Other people’s dogs rightfully belong to them.” By observing him, I learned a lesson in patience and calmness.

It is a good thing I did, for a similar event occurred in my life with our youngest son, Clark.

Clark has always liked animals, birds, reptiles—anything that is alive. Sometimes that resulted in a little chaos in our home. One day in his boyhood he came home from Provo Canyon with a water snake, which he named Herman.

Right off the bat Herman got lost. Sister Monson found him in the silverware drawer. Water snakes have a way of being where you least expect them. Well, Clark moved Herman to the bathtub, put a plug in the drain, put a little water in, and had a sign taped to the back of the tub which read, “Don’t use this tub. It belongs to Herman.” So we had to use the other bathroom while Herman occupied that sequestered place.

But then one day, to our amazement, Herman disappeared. His name should have been Houdini. He was gone! So the next day Sister Monson cleaned up the tub and prepared it for normal use. Several days went by.

One evening I decided it was time to take a leisurely bath; so I filled the tub with a lot of warm water, and then I peacefully lay down in the tub for a few moments of relaxation. I was lying there just pondering, when the soapy water reached the level of the overflow drain and began to flow through it. Can you imagine my surprise when, with my eyes focused on that drain, Herman came swimming out, right for my face? I yelled out to my wife, “Frances! Here comes Herman!”

Well, Herman was captured again, put in a foolproof box, and we made a little excursion to Vivian Park in Provo Canyon and there released Herman into the beautiful waters of the South Fork Creek. Herman was never again to be seen by us.
I was grateful that day to have my own father's example of patience before me to show the proper response. 

Thomas S. Monson, "Peace, Be Still,", October 2002 General Conference
A Prophets Voice - Messages From Thomas S. Monson p. 422

I like this because it reminds me of Bishop Arnie Wolff and something he said his father would say, "When you have a 5 year old helping you--you get 5-year old work.  When you have a 12-year old helping you--you get 12-year old work." Meaning don't get upset when things aren't perfect!

A Story of Listening to a Prompting; A Story About Never Giving Up; The Blessings & Miracles That Follow Each

Let me share an experience when inspiration came to me, providing a service opportunity. A longtime friend of mine, a robust athlete and all-star football player, was stricken with a malady that left him confined to a wheelchair. The doctors said he would never walk again. One day, as usual, in my morning prayers, I petitioned my Heavenly Father to know what He would have me do that day. Later that afternoon, as I was swimming in the pool at the old Deseret Gym, there came to my mind the thought, “Here you swim almost effortlessly, while your friend Stan languishes in his hospital bed, unable to move.” I felt the prompting: “Get to the hospital and give him a blessing.” Quickly, I left the pool, dressed, and hurried to Stan’s hospital room. His bed was empty. A nurse said he was in his wheelchair at the swimming pool, preparing for therapy. I hurried to the area, and there was Stan, totally despondent, all alone at the edge of the pool, ready to give up on life itself. I told him how I happened to be there. I said, “I didn’t just come, Stan. The Lord knew you needed a blessing. He knew that you needed such from one who knows you.” We returned to his hospital room where a blessing was provided. The Spirit of the Lord was there.

Day-by-day, Stan grew stronger. One day, about a year later, there was a knock at my office door, and in walked my friend who had been told he would never walk again. He handed his cane to his son, who was to be set apart for a mission, and walked over to my desk. What joy! What a moment of thanksgiving! Later he stood in the holy temple witnessing his daughter’s marriage. He stood without a cane. He expressed his gratitude for the inspiration that had come to me that day in the swimming pool at the Deseret Gym. Opportunities to give of ourselves are limitless, but they are

A Prophet's Voice--Messages from Thomas S. Monson, Threads in Your Tapestry, p441

Marriott School Alumni Magazine Summer 2004

Unfailing Devotion to Duty

President Monson, we love you. You have given your heart and your health to every calling the Lord has ever given you, especially the sacred office you now hold. This entire Church thanks you for your steadfast service and for your unfailing devotion to duty.

The Cost—And Blessings—Of Discipleship By Elder Jeffrey R. Holland - April 2014 General Conference

My Daily Journal Has Helped Provide Some Specifics Which I Most Likely Would Not Otherwise Be Able to Recount

My daily journal, kept over all these years, has helped provide some specifics which I most likely would not otherwise be able to recount.

October 2012 General Conference - Consider The Blessings - President Thomas S. Monson

He Recognizes the Value of A Short Visit

Not only did our Savior love all; He served all. Expand your goodness to many. Old and young can be greatly blessed by your kind service. President Monson, since the time he was a young man, has always had a special place in his heart for the elderly. He recognizes the value of a short visit, a ready smile, or a squeeze of a well-worn, wrinkled hand. Such simple acts of charity bring color into a life that sometimes is made up of long, lonely, gray days. I would invite each of you to be mindful of your grandparents and the elderly. Look around at church tomorrow and identify those who could use your shade of color added to their life. It doesn’t take much: greet them by name, engage them in a short conversation, be available to assist them. Could you open a door or offer to help with their home or garden? What is a simple task to you at your young age can be an overwhelming project for an older person. “Remember this: kindness begins with me.”


Mary N. Cook, "Remember Kindness Begins with Me", Ensign May 2011 p. 120