Yesterday, I had one of those days in church where my emotions felt close to the surface. In the congregations of our church, members are asked to take turns preparing and giving talks each Sunday during our sacrament meetings. My husband spoke yesterday on the topic of caring for the needy. So much of his talk touched my heart, I felt my eyes water multiple times – and I am not prone to crying frequently. He shared one story in particular that I have head before, but touches me each time I hear it. I found myself thinking about it this story again this morning and wanted to share it:
This story comes from the Ensign (A magazine from my church):
Son Quang Le and Beth Ellis Le, “Two-of-a-Kind Table,” Ensign, July 2004, 63
Having fled Vietnam just three days before the takeover of Saigon in 1975, five members of my large family and I found ourselves living in a small trailer home in Provo, Utah. We had been allowed to bring only a small bag in our flight, and as refugees we were just learning English. Some of my sisters had joined the Church in Vietnam, and I was a recent convert. Now ward members saw to many of our needs, and a close-knit community pooled its resources to make life comfortable for us newcomers.
One day Brother Johnson noticed that our family had no kitchen table. He appeared the next day with an odd-looking but very functional table that fit nicely against the trailer wall across from the kitchen sink and counters. I say odd-looking because two of the table legs matched the tabletop and two did not. Also, several small wooden pegs stuck out along one edge of the worn surface.
Soon we used this unique table daily for food preparation and for eating some quick meals. We still ate our family meals while we sat on the floor—with food, bowls, and chopsticks spread on a cloth in true Vietnamese fashion.
One evening I stood inside Brother Johnson’s front door as I waited for him before a home teaching appointment. There in the nearby kitchen—I was surprised to see it—was a table practically identical to the one they had given to my family. The only difference was that where our table had pegs, the Johnsons’ table had holes! I then realized that, seeing our need, this charitable man had cut his kitchen table in half and had built two new legs for each half.
It was obvious that the Johnson family could not fit around this small piece of furniture—they probably didn’t fit comfortably around it when it was whole. I like to imagine that the Johnsons learned to eat their family meals on the floor, just as we did, in true Vietnamese fashion.
Throughout my life this kind act has been a powerful reminder of true giving.
Each time I have heard/read this story, I am impressed by the heart of Brother Johnson. I am humbled as I consider his ability to not only see the needs of others, but to act so selflessly to meet them. He reached out to help this family so humbly, willing to give a portion of what he had in a way that represents true sacrifice to me. I imagine that if he could have, this kind man would have given the table anonymously.
I have a long way to go before I am like Brother Johnson, but his example inspires me. Too often, I focus on the sacrifice required of me, rather than on the blessing to someone else. I am too comfortable, too well taken care of, that I forget to look around me to truly see the needs of others as well as I should, whether they be emotional, physical, or spiritual. I am so grateful for stories such as this that encourage me to look at myself and cause me to want to do and be more than I am now.
Beautiful and poignant. Refreshing. Inspiring. You are so right—we should always be looking to see where we are needed and what we can do to help others. It’s hard not to get wrapped up in our own lives, though. I am guilty of this, too.
What a lovely story and thought to share with us.
Wow. Thank you so much for sharing that story. I think it’s great and everyone needs a reminder that there are people out there with needs that aren’t being met.