When you are in the service of your fellow beings . . .

The boys and I went to the church community garden today to put in some veggies. I was frustrated because the plot that I thought was ours--the one I worked on last week--had been plowed and planted. Which means that that plot wasn't ours. I thought I had read the very badly written map correctly, but when I called my dear husband this morning and asked him to look up the map on my email and it took us a few minutes to get it figured out, I found out that I had been reading it 90 degrees off.

I headed over to the new plot and started working, but A--didn't nap long in his car seat and didn't like sitting in the pack-n-play. So I had to stop working the ground with two hands and a shovel, put A-- in the Baby Bjorn and start working the plot with just one hand. After about 40 feet, a nice older gentleman that I didn't recognize from the ward showed up to plant beets and carrots. He was nice and introduced himself. Then we all got to work. I let the boys play in the car to try and keep them occupied because by that point we had been there too long, as far as they were concerned. 40 feet later, Mr. Miller had finished his rows and came over and asked me how much longer I was planning on being there. You see, he had a small tiller at his house, and since he had finished what he was planning to do today, he would run home and get his tiller and then come back and till the plot for me. I almost started to cry I was so grateful.

When he got back, he told me to relax for a few minutes while he tilled. I had been working hard and needed a break.

After he had finished, I asked him if there was anything we could do to show our thanks. He said something very profound: Serving others is why were are here on the earth. I thought King Benjamin would whole-heartedly agree with him.

Mr. Miller is 92. He lives in the Mennonite community next to the LDS church building. His wife, who had needed some pretty constant care for the past three years at least, died two months ago. He is grateful to be able to garden in the church's community garden. He is praying for rain for his eight rows of corn. He is my little miracle.