Would You Like a Blessing?
    Footnotes

    “Would You Like a Blessing?” Liahona, June 2011, 41

    Would You Like a Blessing?

    Lia McClanahan, Utah, USA

    One morning I was walking up a steep hill on the south side of the Brigham Young University campus when I heard a crash behind me. I turned around and saw a young man lying facedown on the pavement, his bike several yards away in pieces. I stood in shock until he weakly tried to lift his head. Then I hurried toward him, along with four other people who had been walking up the hill.

    The student who reached the biker first carefully turned him over, revealing severe cuts on the biker’s lips, nose, chin, and eyebrow. Another student called for help on his cell phone. A young mother standing next to me offered a piece of cloth, and the first student stanched the biker’s bleeding lip with it. A second woman and I stood by, anxiously waiting for paramedics to come.

    The injured man’s eyes flickered open, and he looked in confusion at the faces around him.

    “Where am I?” he said. “What happened?”

    The student holding the cloth to his lips answered, “You’re on the south side of campus. You crashed your bike.”

    The biker groaned. “It hurts,” he said. “Help me.”

    The student said that help was on the way and asked the young man his name.

    “David,” he said, sobbing softly. “Where am I?” he asked again.

    An older man in a suit—likely a professor—approached and asked David if he wanted a blessing. He nodded gratefully.

    The professor paused. “I don’t have any oil, though,” he said, looking around. Those nearby shook their heads. The injured young man groaned and feebly gestured toward his pocket. The student next to him reached inside it and pulled out a large key ring with a small vial of consecrated oil attached.

    “He has some!” exclaimed the student.

    The biker calmed down as soon as the professor and the male students laid their hands on his head and gave him a blessing. A feeling of calm came over me too as the professor promised the young man that he would recover, be at peace, and draw nearer to the Savior through this experience.

    Soon the paramedics came and took the biker away. As I walked to class, I realized that he carried consecrated oil with him so he could use the priesthood to bless someone in need. This day, however, he himself was blessed. I left with a deep feeling of love for faithful men who live ready to bless others and for the Lord, who also blesses them.