Volunteer

President John F. Kennedy said it well: For of those to whom much is given, much is required. And when at some future date the high court of history sits in judgment on each of us, recording whether in our brief span of service we fulfilled our responsibilities to the state, our success or failure, in whatever office we hold, will be measured by the answers to four questions: 

- First, were we truly men of courage. 

- Second, were we truly men of judgment. 

- Third, were we truly men of integrity. . . . 

- Finally, were we truly men of dedication? [John F. Kennedy, speech to the Massachusetts state legislature (9 January 1961)] 

In his State of the Union speech on January 29, 2002, President George W. Bush set forth a challenge to every American: In the sacrifice of soldiers, the fierce brotherhood of firefighters, and the bravery and generosity of ordinary citizens, we have glimpsed what a new culture of responsibility could look like. We want to be a nation that serves goals larger than self. We’ve been offered a unique opportunity, and we must not let this moment pass.[At whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2002/01/20020129-11.html] He offered a specific challenge to all of us: “My call tonight is for every American to commit at least two years—4,000 hours over the rest of your lifetime—to the service of your neighbors and your nation” (at whitehouse.gov).

To build a character of oneself is not that easy, it requires work and dedication, many believe we are born as good as it can get, if so, why a parent has to say to its own kids a thousand times “dont forget to say THANK YOU”. So am proud that my soon Bernardo decides to fulfill an LDS mission (that will take 2 years to complete - from March 2024 to March 2026),That volunteer service is about preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ and also helping his fellow citizens in any way he can. It will demand sacrifice of his time and means, but ultimately, he will learn a lot from such a service and become a much better person for providing this volunteer service, I sure he will also develop many of the skills I did talk in the beginning of this article.

From Richard J. Maynes (“Shape Your Life Through Service to Others”) we read: “Ernest L. Wilkinson, a past president of Brigham Young University, adopted the slogan for the university in 1966. For more than fifty years now the slogan has greeted students and faculty, parents and visitors, and ambassadors and dignitaries from across the globe.

While speaking here in 2003, President Gordon B. Hinckley urged every student to make “Enter to learn; go forth to serve” his or her  personal motto. President Hinckley said at that time:

Mediocrity will never do. You are capable of something better. . . . Walk the high road of charity, respect, and love for others and particularly those who are less fortunate.

Please remember, my young friends, that being the best at something doesn’t make you a good person. You can be number one in your academic field, you can be an accomplished musician or artist, or you can be an all - American athlete, but none of these accomplishments make you a good person. What you actually do to bless others with your knowledge and talents is what makes you a good person.

I would like to finish this article sharing a story from Kirt R. Saville talk “Living a Life of Service and Love: What Goes Around Comes Around” in August 1, 2017): Service Given, Service Received.

I often hoped that my father’s mantra was true, but I was never quite sure I believed it. Over the years I learned to admire the dedication that my father had to his mantra. But I must say that I never saw it “come around” until years later when we took a trip to Flaming Gorge Reservoir. I remember this trip clearly because it was Friday the thirteenth. Since I was the only child left in the house, I knew it would be a great getaway with my parents. We loved to fish at Flaming Gorge.

This happened while I was in high school—which, according to my kids, was shortly after the earth cooled and most likely during the Jurassic period.

We owned a small cabin cruiser that was about fourteen to fifteen feet in length. It was big enough to sleep three if someone was willing to sleep on the floor—and that was always me. We put our boat in at Sheep Creek Marina. Our goal was to go as far north as possible, spend the weekend in our little boat, and fish until we had our limit.

As I remember, we joked that it was Friday the thirteenth. What followed later that weekend etched that date forever in my mind.

On Friday, heading toward the Wyoming side of the reservoir, we traveled some distance before we began to fish. Frankly, the fishing wasn’t very good, but we loved being out on the boat together in such a beautiful place.

I remember my father saying, “Look, there’s a man on the far shore who’s waving at us.”

I looked up but could barely see anyone. Still, I knew that it was time to pull in the lines. We fired up the motor and went toward the other side of the reservoir, where the man was still waving at us. It seemed odd to me that this man was standing on a barren hillside with no other boat in sight, but when he saw that we were coming, he motioned for us to go around a bend into a small hidden cove. When we came around the hill I was shocked to see a beautiful big yacht pulled onto the shore. It was easily twice the length and width of our little boat.

The man thanked us profusely for coming to his assistance. His battery was dead, and he wondered if we could help him. We did, and soon his big motor roared back to life. The man and his family were very grateful. We lost an hour of fishing, but we were soon back out on the reservoir.

The next day the fishing didn’t improve. As a matter of fact, it was terrible, so we decided to call it quits and go back to the marina. We were about two miles from the marina where we had launched our boat when we found ourselves fighting a blustering headwind that slowed our progress. The waves were kicking up, and suddenly our engine decided to quit. We tried in vain to get it running, but it simply wouldn’t start. My dad was a do-it-yourself kind of guy, and he had built our cabin cruiser from a basic hull. He could always keep our cars and our boat motors running, but not this time.

In the midst of trying to pull-start our outboard motor, much to our surprise, the fellow in the big yacht pulled up and asked if he could be of assistance. I had never been so pleased to see someone! Flaming Gorge is a very big reservoir, and we had been out there for two days. I was amazed that of all the people on the reservoir, he would be the person to show up to give us aid. He offered to tow us back to the marina, even though we were still quite a distance out. We happily accepted his kind offer.

All was going well, and we went at a nice and even slow click for some time, being pulled behind this monstrosity of a boat. We could actually see the marina in the distance when suddenly the motor on the yacht died. We checked the gas lines, the fuel filter—everything. But the motor wouldn’t start. It was Friday-the-thirteenth-weekend kind of luck. We tried his little trolling motor, but it wouldn’t start.

In the meantime, the wind had kicked up into a gale-force wind and was blowing us farther and farther away from the marina. I could barely see the marina in the distance as my dad and Mr. Yacht Guy worked on the engines. Three motors, and not a single one of them would start. What luck!

Out of the blue a little old man and his wife puttered up to us in a little twelve-foot, open-bow, aluminum fishing boat. I remember being shocked to see his wife sitting there all done up pretty with pancake makeup plastered on her windblown face.

I thought, “What in the world are these two doing out here in this tiny boat amid all of these winds and waves?”

The old gentleman offered to tow us in. Quite frankly, I looked at him in disbelief. He hooked a line to the big yacht, and with his little twenty-five horsepower outboard motor, he puttered away like a tugboat with a battleship. Soon he and the big yacht faded out of sight as they went toward the marina.

Meanwhile, we were being blown ever farther away from our destination. We were still in a pickle. But forty-five minutes later the little old man and his wife came back out to us, tossed us a line, and proceeded to tow us back to the dock. I was amazed that these folks were so willing to go so far out of their way to help us. Their kindness and willingness to give so much time and effort to assist total strangers was a gift that I will never forget.

By now we were fast friends—made so by the events of the day and the weekend. We helped the rich fellow get his yacht loaded onto his trailer, and next we helped load the little aluminum boat. As fate would have it, the old gentleman had left the lights on in his car, so his car battery was dead. My dad pulled out his jumper cables and got the car running. We all helped to get the little boat and ours safely secured onto our trailers.

We laughed all the way home about the adventures of that weekend. What goes around really does comes around. I finally had a chance to witness my father’s mantra in action. I may be a little slow, but this was a lesson of a lifetime that I couldn’t ignore.

Thanks, Dad, for being such a great example to me.