While on a break at a missionary conference for the California Fresno Mission in Salinas, I stepped outside to enjoy the sunshine. The custodian, who was from Paraguay and in the process of learning English, opened the side door of the chapel and said, “Sister, come see.”
The chapel looked beautiful with the sun shining through the windows. He stretched his arm out and said worshipfully, “Pretty? You like, Sister?” I was about to agree politely when I noticed how the sun’s rays bounced off the highly polished benches. He must have been working hard in the chapel polishing them while we were holding our meeting in the Relief Society room. They sparkled like mirrors.
I exclaimed over their beauty. Very pleased, he beckoned me to follow him down the aisle.
“Look at center,” he directed. “I polish center first—down to here. You see difference?” he asked as we stopped.
I indeed saw a difference.
“Sit, Sister. You try.”
I sat down and almost slid off the seat onto the floor—to his obvious delight. “My goodness, they are really slick, aren’t they?” I said, standing up and carefully surveying his handiwork. “How did you make them shine so? What are you using on them?”
“Oh, Sister, my secret!” he playfully answered. “But I tell you.” He picked up a can of paste wax and showed me the label.
I was impressed. “You must be exhausted,” I said with feeling. “I know this kind of wax requires very hard work to make it shine. You should break the job up so you don’t do too much at a time.”
I shall never forget the beautiful look on his face as he exclaimed, “Oh, Sister, I don’t mind. Hard work, yes, but this I do for my Savior. I love my Savior. Not too much for him.”
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