looking outward

When I go through the Sunday paper for the coupon inserts, I generally go through the Parade magazine, not to read it, but because sometimes there are coupons in it. Today a story in the magazine caught my eye and I decided to read it, which is always a mistake because they don't generally write anything worthwhile in there.

The article listed several ways that people can be more courteous to each other on airplanes. Many of the suggestions were reasonable, like don't take your shoes off (smelly feet), don't talk loudly, be considerate if you are relining your seat, and so on. But I felt like literally half the article was about the things you shouldn't let your kids do on airplanes--kick the seats, cry, sing annoying songs, etc. Believe me, most parents are well aware of how annoying and distracting their children are being on the plane, and are exhausting their energy to keep them in some semblance of control. It's asking a lot to expect a small child to be quiet and good in a confined airplane seat for several hours, and having another passenger make comments about how rude it is to let their children behave so badly is only going to hurt feelings. I'm pretty sure that if the author had children, he would not have written those things, at least not so insensitively. Kevin would likely see his grandparents more often if we weren't scared of him doing these exact things.

When I mentioned this to RT, he said it reminded him of a story. I found it here, and it is quoted below.

“A young mother on an overnight flight with a two-year-old daughter was stranded by bad weather in [the] Chicago airport without food or clean clothing for the child and without money. She was two months pregnant and threatened with miscarriage, so she was under doctor’s instructions not to carry the child unless it was essential. Hour after hour she stood in one line after another, trying to get a flight to Michigan. The terminal was noisy, full of tired, frustrated, grumpy passengers, and she heard critical references to her crying child and to her sliding her child along the floor with her foot as the line moved forward. No one offered to help with the soaked, hungry, exhausted child. Then, the woman later reported, ‘Someone came towards us and with a kindly smile said, “Is there something I could do to help you?” With a grateful sigh I accepted his offer. He lifted my sobbing little daughter from the cold floor and lovingly held her to him while he patted her gently on the back. He asked if she could chew a piece of gum. When she was settled down, he carried her with him and said something kindly to the others in the line ahead of me, about how I needed their help. They seemed to agree and then he went up to the ticket counter [at the front of the line] and made arrangements with the clerk for me to be put on a flight leaving shortly. He walked with us to a bench, where we chatted a moment, until he was assured that I would be fine. He went on his way. About a week later I saw a picture of Apostle Spencer W. Kimball and recognized him as the stranger in the airport’ ” (Edward L. Kimball and Andrew E. Kimball, Jr., Spencer W. Kimball [1977], 334).

Many years later, President Kimball received a letter:

“I am a student at Brigham Young University. I have just returned from my mission in Munich West Germany. I had a lovely mission and learned much.

“I was sitting in priesthood meeting last week, when a story was told of a loving service which you performed some 21 years ago in the Chicago airport. The story told of how you met a young pregnant mother with a young screaming child in … a [condition of] distress waiting in a long line for her tickets. She was threatening miscarriage and therefore couldn’t lift her child to comfort her. She had experienced four previous miscarriages which gave added reason for the doctor’s orders not to bend or lift.

“… You comforted the crying child, and explained the dilemma to the other passengers in line. This act of love took the strain and tension off of my mother. I was born a few months later in Flint, Michigan.

“I just want to thank you for your love. Thank you for your example!” (quoted by Gordon B. Hinckley, in Christmas Devotional address, 18 Dec. 1983).

I thought there was such a stark contrast between what the Parade magazine said and what Spencer W. Kimball did. I realize that it's frustrating to have to hear annoying children or deal with other irritating things that people around us may do, but what if instead of looking inward and complaining that we are being inconvenienced, we were to look outward. What if instead of groaning about hearing Old MacDonald for the 500th time in a row, we were to look at the exhausted mother who hauled three small children, two car seats, and a carry-on bag or two to the airplane by herself, and think, "Gee, she looks like she could use a break. I think I'll offer to help." What if instead of getting annoyed about the huge moving truck and all the ugly boxes and furniture all over the sidewalk, and the family that is hogging the elevator with all the things they're bringing up and down, we were to offer to carry a few boxes or bring down some sandwiches and ice water? Even if on the surface it looks like someone is being inconsiderate or strange or wrong, it's so important to remember that we don't know their entire story, that, as the hymn says, "In the quiet heart is hidden / Sorrow that the eye can't see." (Lord, I Would Follow Thee, LDS hymn #220) I believe that this is how the Savior would think. When lepers came to him begging to be healed, he didn't turn them away in scorn because he could get infected if they came too close. He invited them to come to him, and he healed them and helped them.

On a similar vein, below is a Mormon Message that Kevin and I watched today. It is one of my favorite stories. It has a similar message about how we should look outward and think of ways to help other people and make their lives happier. I love the ending when the older boy says, "Now, really, don't you have a good feeling?"