New Kind of Easter

by Lynette K. Allen

Thou shalt love thy neighbor . . . -3 Nephi 12:43

“This is going to be the boringest family home evening ever!” groaned Jeremy, slumping in his chair as he pushed his carrots into his potatoes. “Couldn’t we just stay home and make jelly bean cupcakes? What kind of Easter celebration is this? We aren’t even going to go to the town Easter egg hunt!”

Even as he said this, Jeremy knew why that tradition had ended. For the last two years the younger children had wound up in tears because older ones had snatched up most of the eggs. Then in the car on the way home, there was also a disagreement when Mom and Dad insisted that the eggs be equally divided.

“We’ve already discussed this,” said Dad firmly. “Too many Easters have come and gone with very little thought about its real meaning. It’s time our family made a change. Tonight’s service project is the sort of thing the Savior was doing the last week of his life—helping others.”

“But why her?” moaned Jeremy.

“That’s enough,” said Mom. “Finish your dinner. We don’t have a lot of time before the sun goes down.”

Sullenly Jeremy sat up and started in on the cold potatoes. It wasn’t that he had anything against their next-door neighbor, Mrs. Adams. And it was obvious that an eighty-year-old widow needed help. But why couldn’t they do something for someone like Sister White? Every time anybody did anything for her, she treated them with delicious homemade cookies.

Or what about the Spencers? Jeremy’s Primary class had helped them move in. The very next Sunday Sister Spencer had even cried as she bore her testimony about “those wonderful Blazer boys.”

And the time Jeremy’s Cub Scout den had cleaned up the playground at the park hadn’t been too bad, either. The mayor himself had written them a thank-you note and sent them each a coupon for an ice-cream cone.

But it was going to be different with Mrs. Adams. She hardly did any cooking—she had most of her meals brought in to her. She didn’t go out in public enough to tell anybody else how wonderful Jeremy’s family was, and she certainly didn’t have enough money to treat everyone to ice cream. Besides that, she was hard of hearing. She’d probably sit in her house, watching TV and never even notice that they were working in her yard.

Cleaning Mrs. Adam’s yard was about as hard as Jeremy had imagined. It took his whole family nearly two hours to rake up the dead leaves and grass and prune the bushes on the side of her house. It was nearly dark when they finished. And he’d been right about Mrs. Adams and the TV. She had it turned up so loud that they could hear it outside. She never knew what was going on only a few feet away, right outside her door. Even so, Jeremy started to smile when he thought about how surprised she would be.

Jeremy’s oldest sister, Kim, was helping him tie up the last bag of dead leaves. “I know how you feel about tonight. I had a date I had to turn down!”

Jeremy didn’t quite know what to say. Kim was in high school and was so busy that he hadn’t really talked to her for a while.

“But this morning in seminary,” Kim went on, “Sister Hansen reminded us that no one has ever done more for other people on this earth than Jesus. When He prayed in Gethsemane and when He died on the cross, nobody said thank you. Anyway, I started thinking that maybe it would be a good way to celebrate Easter, to do something hard without getting thanked.” She smiled. “You’re quite a worker, you know that? And I happen to know that Mom made brownies for us, so cheer up.” She picked up the bag and carried it out to the curb.

But it wasn’t the brownies that Jeremy was thinking about as he watched her go. He was thinking about how strangely peaceful he felt. The last dark pink of the sunset was just fading, and he could barely make out the rest of his family as they gathered up the rakes and pruning shears and things and headed home. But he knew that they were there, and he knew that he loved them. He could see Mrs. Adams through her living room window as she stood up with her cane to go into the kitchen. And while Jeremy didn’t understand all of those feelings he was having, he knew for sure that Easter Sunday was never going to be the same again.

You've Helped to Make a Better World

Alfred Bernhard Nobel was a Swedish chemist and engineer. He invented dynamite. He never married and was said to be very lonely. He also suffered from ill health. Yet he believed in benevolence and the future of mankind.

He died on December 10, 1896 in San Remo, Italy, and left most of his fortune to a trust fund. Out of this fund, five prizes were to be awarded yearly in the categories of peace, physics, chemistry, medicine, and literature. The prizes were to be given to those individuals who "during the preceding year, shall have conferred the greatest benefits on mankind."

One of the most important reasons we come to earth is to have the opportunity to serve others. All of us can improve the world in some way. Even when you help just one other individual, you are making a positive difference in the world.

This ear, you can give your own "You've Made a Difference in the World" award. Think back over the past year and consider all the individuals you know who have served others in a special way. You might choose a teacher who has helped you or someone else you admire. You might even select a member of your family or a friend. You can fill out this certificate (handout) to give to the person who deserves it most.

Now consider yourself. Think about and make a list of some of the ways you could personally make this a better world in which to live. Then try to do one of the items from your list this month.

Ways to Improve the World
_____________________________________________
_____________________________________________
_____________________________________________
_____________________________________________

Make a certificate stating the following:

You've Made a Difference in the World Award

Bestowed upon: ________________________________
For outstanding contributions in the field of:
_____________________________________________
Date: ________________________________________
Signed: ______________________________________

Paint a Bright Spot by President Thomas S. Monson

Be ye kind one to another. -Ephesians 4:32

One winter day while serving as a bishop. I visited an elderly couple. As I approached their home, I met the eight-two-year-old husband, his aged body bent in the driving snow as he gathered a few pieces of wet coal from the uncovered coal pile behind his house. I helped him carry in the coal but made a solemn resolve to do more.

I prayed and pondered, seeking a solution. Step by step, the inspiration came. In the ward was an unemployed carpenter. He had no fuel to heat his home, but he was too proud to accept it from the ward. I made a suggestion: "Would you work for the fuel you need by building a coal shed for an older couple?'

"Of course," he replied. 

But building materials were needed. I approached the owners of a local lumberyard and said, "How would the two of you like to paint a bright spot on your souls this winter day?" Not knowing exactly what I meant, they said they would. I invited them to donate the lumber, nails, and hardware for the coal shed, which they did.

Within days, the project was completed. The coal shed was simply beautiful. The carpenter testified that he had actually felt inspired as he labored on the modest shed. My odler friend patted the wall of the sturdy structure and said, "Bishop, take a look at the finest coal shed a man ever had."

The Lord uses the time, talents, skills, compassion, donated materials, and money of faithful Church members to bless His children who are in need. And if we help others, our Father has promised that He will hear us in our hour of need.

Serve One Another

Sample Presentation Adapted for Six- and Seven-year old Chidren

Purpose: To help children learn that they can follow Jesus' example of serving others.

Preparation: Materials needed: Pictures of Jesus Christ, Jesus blessing the children, child helping with younger children, Jesus healing the sick, a sick child, Jesus feeding the five thousand, child taking food to someone, Christ and the children, child being kind to someone, Christ teaching others, child teaching others

Procedure: As each child gives his part, have him hold or post the appropriate picture.

Child 1 (or one child could do each part as a part of a talk): We learn from the scriptures that Jesus taught us we should serve each other. Just as he served others, we can serve the people around us.

Child 2: Jesus blessed the children.

Child 3: We can follow Jesus' example by helping younger children.

Child 4: Jesus healed the sick.

Child 5: We can follow Jesus' example by helping someone who is sick.

Child 6: Jesus fed the hungry.

Child 7: We can follow Jesus' example by taking food to someone in need.

Child 8: Jesus was kind to everyone.

Child 9: We can follow Jesus' example by being kind to everyone.

Child 10: Jesus shared his teaching with all who would listen.

Child 11: We can follow Jesus' example by sharing his teachings with others.

Child 12: We can serve Jesus by serving others.

Conclusion: Using the pictures, review with the children ways they can be helpful to others.

Suggested songs: "Jesus Said Love Everyone," "Jesus Loved the Little Children," "Kindness Begins with Me," "A Happy Helper," "When We're Helping We're Happy."

Brother Consky's Moldy Walls

I was sick, and ye visited me. -Matthew 25:36

Brother Consky was an old, bent man with deep wrinkles and feathery white hair. He lived down our street in a small, beat-up house that seemed kind of spooky to us kids. Big strips of red paint had peeled off the outside walls, and ugly weeds grew wild everywhere. Once in a while Brother Consky pulled his curtains back and peeked out at us as we played, which made him seem spooky too. We decided to keep clear of him.

We would have done just that if it hadn’t been for Mom. “Boys,” she called to my brother, Jeremy, and me one day. “I need you to run dinner over to Brother Consky.”

Jeremy and I stared at each other in wide-eyed disbelief.

In the kitchen, we pleaded our cause. “Mom, we just can’t go. We’re in the middle of a very important scientific discovery (watching a spider devour a fly). We’ll miss the whole thing!” Our argument sounded good to us, but I guess it wasn’t very convincing to Mom.

She gave us that “if you know what’s good for you” look and handed us a couple of plates.

“It will only take a minute. Brother Consky is ill and can’t get his own meals. Dad has just been assigned as his home teacher, so you’d better get used to going over to his house. Besides, he could use your smiles. He doesn’t have any family to care for him.”

“Well, I’ll take the food,” I grumbled. “But I won’t promise a smile.”

Mom gave me another look and marched us out the door.

We walked slowly down the street and hesitated at the broken-down gate in front of Brother Consky’s house. It squeaked as we opened it. We stopped for a minute, then forced our trembling legs to walk through the scratchy weeds to the front door.

Jeremy slowly raised his hand and knocked timidly.

“Come in,” a raspy voice called out.

I hadn’t counted on going inside! I turned the doorknob and shoved Jeremy ahead. When I was sure it was safe, I followed him. For a moment I couldn’t see anything in the darkness. Then my eyes began to focus, and I’ll never forget what I saw.

The room was empty except for an old gray couch where Brother Consky lay looking dull and sad. The floors were bare and cold, and the curtains torn and stained. There were no bright autumn leaves in vases like Mom put in our house. But worst of all were the walls. Green paint had faded and chipped, leaving great big spots of moldy gray plasterboard. It was a cold, dreary place, and I was glad when we were finally out in the sunshine again.

From then on, Jeremy and I took food over to Brother Consky every Wednesday and Sunday. Each visit was the same. We sat in the dark, moldy room, answered a few questions, and waited for our release into the bright world outside.

Fall passed slowly into the first week of December. Christmas trees and bright lights appeared in other homes but not in Brother Consky’s. One Wednesday he didn’t answer our knocks.

“Try the door,” I said. “He’s always up waiting for us.”

I knew that if we returned home with plates still full of food, Mom would send us right back.

The rusty knob turned, and the door clicked open.

“Brother Consky?” I called. “Are you here?”

The house was dark and still except for the eerie humming of the refrigerator.

“Brother Consky?” I called again as I walked down the hall and into the bedroom. Then, “Jeremy!” I yelled. Jeremy came running into the room. Brother Consky was hunched up on the floor. “Run and get Mom and Dad.”

My heart pounded faster as I sat there and waited and watched. As much as I had complained about going to Brother Consky’s every week, deep down inside, I liked him. I didn’t want him to die. Tears stung my eyes, and I quickly brushed them back as Mom and Dad hurried into the room.

“What happened?” Mom asked.

“I don’t know. I just found him like this.”

“Quick, Ken. Call the ambulance.”

Soon I heard the whining siren. In a matter of minutes Brother Consky was lifted onto a stretcher and taken away.

Two weeks passed. Each Wednesday and Sunday Jeremy and I walked to Brother Consky’s and stood outside the broken gate.

“I wish he was here for us to visit now,” said Jeremy glumly one Wednesday.

“Me too.” I also wished that I’d never complained about going to his house.

The next night Dad announced that Brother Consky was getting better and would be coming home the day before Christmas.

Jeremy and I jumped out of our seats and cheered.

Later that night Jeremy and I lay wide awake trying to think of something special to give Brother Consky for his homecoming.

“How about bringing in a Christmas tree and decorating it for him,” suggested Jeremy.

“Great idea, but it’s not enough. It has to be something really neat.”

“Good night, boys,” Mom called upstairs. Somehow she always knew when we were whispering.

Jeremy rolled over and went to sleep, but I was too excited. I thought of Brother Consky cooped up in his house. I remembered when I’d been sick how awful it was to stay inside all day, staring at the same four walls. I had felt like a prisoner caged in a cell, and I’d desperately wanted to escape the walls that held me in. The walls—that’s it! The perfect gift!

The next morning, before I could even gulp any breakfast down, I told my family about my plan.

“Dad, I need your help on a special project.”

“Sure, James. What is it?”

“Jeremy and I want to give Brother Consky a welcome-home gift, and I have the perfect idea—newly painted walls! You’ve seen his house. How would you like to lie in bed staring at those ugly walls?”

I ran on excitedly, “We have over a week before he comes home. If we all pitch in and paint, it will be done and we can bring him into a bright new room!”

“That’s a great idea, James. We’ll get the paint and start on it tomorrow.”

I saw him wink at Mom.

Later, as I was rounding up paintbrushes, I heard Dad on the phone: “No, Stan. We won’t need the elder’s quorum now. Two Christmas elves beat you to the idea. We’re going to start tomorrow.”

Early in the afternoon on the twenty-fourth, Dad wheeled Brother Consky into his newly painted home. The walls glowed with fresh paint. The new curtains Mom had made were parted to let the sunshine in. A Christmas tree glistened with lights and tinsel. Outside, last summer’s dead weeds had been cleared away and the fence fixed. To Jeremy and me, it looked like a castle.

Brother Consky sat there stunned. For a moment no one spoke as his eyes wandered from wall to wall. Then a smile cracked his lips. He looked at Jeremy and then at me. I saw tears in his eyes. He reached out a shaky hand and took my hand and squeezed it. I moved closer than I’d ever been to him and threw my arms around his neck.

Jeremy and I still visit Brother Consky. Only now we don’t go just on Wednesdays and Sundays. We stop off almost every day on our way home from school. He likes to hear about what we’re doing, and he even helps us with our math. Best of all, we just like being there with him, listening to his stories.