Why is it that the most impoverished seem to know best how to thank the Lord? In the highlands of Guatemala, members barely subsist. Going to the temple requires great sacrifice. A visit takes a year of preparation. There is hard work, sacrifice to save money and food, the spinning, dyeing, and weaving of new clothing. There is the long, barefoot walk out of the mountains, the crossing of Lake Isabel, the bus rides with little food. Tired and worn, they arrive at the temple. They scrub until they shine, dress in their new clothing, and enter the house of the Lord.
Reclothed in white, they are taught by the Spirit, receive ordinances,
and make covenants. One highland woman was greatly touched by the spirit
and meaning of the endowment. Entering the celestial room, she saw
others seated, with heads reverently bowed. Innocently, she knelt at the
entrance to the room, oblivious to others. She bowed her head, sobbed,
and for twenty minutes poured out her heart to her Father in Heaven.
Finally, with her dress soaked with tears, she raised her head. The
sensitive temple matron asked, “May I help?” She responded, “Oh, would
you? This is my problem: I’ve tried to tell Father in Heaven of my
gratitude for all of my blessings, but I don’t feel that I’ve
communicated. Will you help me tell Him how grateful I am?”
