I Thought I Was Giving

Every few weeks at church they pass around the sign-up sheet for Casa Juanita. I've never signed up. This week, as the last church meeting was ending, I heard a nearby voice saying "We don't have anyone to play piano today at Casa Juanita." My glance caught the gaze of the speaker, and I said, "I can play, if someone can give me a ride."

Sure, what would it hurt - I could give some of my time to the sacrament meeting in the HUD housing. I probably would even feel good afterwards for doing service.

I picked up my hymnbook at home and then got back in the car with the sister who was coming to translate for a deaf sister. We chatted as we drove, quickly arriving in front of a yellow-tinged building of indeterminate age. She reassured me that this would be a quick meeting, perhaps lasting 20-30 minutes. I smiled to myself, thinking about how good and nice I was to give them my time, my talents, my efforts.

Directly inside of the front door of Casa Juanita an older gentleman smiled his greetings, speaking in a foreign tongue. I smiled back and shook his hand, surprised at the strength of his grip. He kept shaking my hand and smiling, and I got a happy feeling because he seemed so pleased to meet me. Four of us left the lobby at the same time, trailing each other down the stairs and along the narrow basement hallway.

I sat down at the newer of the two ancient pianos. Someone had painted the piano a bright red, probably hoping its festive exterior would help make up for its worn, out-of-tune interior. I played a few songs for prelude, and then the meeting started. There were fewer than a dozen people in the room - most of them were the people from my ward coming to hold the meeting.

Sacrament meetings are pretty similar wherever you are, but for some reason, this meeting was different for me. After the first 10 minutes, I just felt so happy to be there that I was trying not to cry. As I listened to the speaker, a part of my mind marveled at how strongly I could feel the Holy Ghost. I have a friend at work who said this week that he thinks no religion can be completely right, everyone just has little bits and pieces of truth, and he doesn't know how anyone can know that one religion is correct. Since we were at work I didn't enter further into a religious discussion, but right now I feel my answer in my heart and in my mind. I know what I believe, I know what I felt, and I am very blessed today. When I went to Casa Juanita, I thought I was giving something away; instead I was receiving far more than I could ever give.