My Portion of Humankind

I think about the following quite a bit though not often enough:

"Each of us has more opportunities to do good and to be good than we ever use. These opportunities lie all around us. Whatever the size of our present circle of effective influence, if we were to improve our performance even a little bit, that circle would be enlarged. There are many individuals waiting to be touched and loved if we care enough to improve in our performance.

We must remember that those mortals we meet in parking lots, offices, elevators, and elsewhere are that portion of mankind God has given us to love and to serve. It will do us little good to speak of the general brotherhood of mankind if we cannot regard those who are all around us as our brothers and sisters. If our sample of humanity seems unglamorous or so very small, we need to remember the parable Jesus gave us in which he reminded us that greatness is not always a matter of size or scale, but of the quality of one’s life. If we do well with our talents and with the opportunities around us, this will not go unnoticed by God. And to those who do well with the opportunities given them, even more will be given!"

To me, it's a really empowering fact that God puts you in a place at a certain time, not always for you benefit, but to benefit others. He trusts you, he gives you responsibilities, because he knows that you are capable of effecting a change in the lives of others for the better. This fact has so much potential to alter people's attitudes, and it want it to have more sway in my life as I interact with those around me. 

In the same article where the above is taken from, President Spencer W. Kimball also notes that Jesus "was not afraid of close friendships." Being social and reaching out to people is hard for me. But to be someone's friend, to gain and honor their trust, is an effective way to love and serve them. I crave to serve those around me and be an instrument in the hands of the Lord, but it's a matter of overcoming my weakness and going forth in boldness and courage to serve my portion of humankind.

My Grandmother's Nightgown

For the last several years of her life, my grandmother was home-bound. Every time we visited her, she was wearing a nightgown. She was small, with her thin, wispy, permed white hair and large-framed glasses, and her nightgowns seemed to swallow her. They were so grandmotherly--long and loose dresses of the softest material, some frill or embroidery around the edges, garnished with small buttons. It seemed so fitting, so classic, that my grandmother wore these nightgowns.

When she passed away in March, my grandfather gave her pajamas to the granddaughters who wanted them. I took one of my grandmother's nightgowns. I wore it to bed for the first time a few nights ago. The nightgown was permeated with her smell. I wanted to take it back off and put it back in the drawer so I could preserve the smell and thereby the memories associated with this nightgown.

But I left it on, and in the morning the smell merely lingered. It was a bittersweet moment as I realized that not all things have to fade away.