Carol Of The Good Works

Some years ago, I was serving as a young bishop.
We were holding a ward social around a swimming pool near the apartment where most of the ward members lived.
I was introduced to a new member of the ward--a young woman in her twenties by the name of Carol.
Carol had been afflicted with cerebral palsy since infancy.
She walked with great difficulty; her hands were crippled.
Her kind and dear face was also affected, as was her speech.
But as I would come to understand, to know Carol was to love her.

I had only to wait a few minutes to begin learning the great lesson she would teach. While we were talking, we watched a tall, handsome, dark-haired, very athletic young ma dive off the diving board and seem to injure himself slightly.
He got out of the pool, holding his neck, and went and sat under a tree.
I watched as Carol struggled to prepare a plate of food and with great difficulty delivered it to him--a guileless act of service, of "good works."
Carol's good works became a legend.
She cared for the sick; she took food to the hungry; she drove people places (an experience that delivered you pale and shaken, but always in one piece); she comforted; she lifted; she blessed.

I walked with her one day on the sidewalk that passed through the apartment complex where she lived.
From the windows, from the balconies, from the porches came cries of "Hi, Carol!" "How are you doing, Carol?" "Come up and see us, Carol."
And occasionally someone would say, "Oh, hi, Bishop."
It was clear that Carol was loved and greatly accepted through her wonderful good works.

My most vivid recollection of Carol occurred in the spring of that year.
The ward had agreed to participate in the stake five-kilometer fun run--an oxymoronic term, to be sure.
Carol wanted to be with the rest of the ward members, but we didn't see how it would be possible.
For her, just walking was a great difficulty.
Nevertheless, she was determined.
She struggled and trained each day to increase her endurance.

The race finished in the stadium.
Two or three hundred of us were in the stands by the finish line, drinking juice and catching our breath.
And then we remembered Carol--she was left somewhere back on the course.
As we ran out the entrance to the stadium, she came into view, struggling to breathe, barely able to walk, but determined to finish.
As she started around the track toward the finish line, a wonderful thing happened.
Suddenly the track was lined on both sides with hundreds of cheering friends.
Others were running alongside to support and hold her up.
Carol 'of great good works' had finished the race.

Stephen D. Nadauld -Faith and Good Works -April 1992 General Conference

Until you next read these words;
I'll be watching the leaves.
Enjoy the day!

-Sarnic Dirchi

The Dream

There were crabs in a hole of sand, and I was trying to get my crabs inside and keep the other people's crabs out.
Then I was at work at the checkout stand, figuring out how to help customers and make my manager happy while trying to also find where my shoes went.

Then the unholy tones of daylight pulled me away....
and I became myself again. :)

-S.N.D