Today would have been a down day by average daily standards. Little pressures were bearing down, compounded by rainy, gray skies and the ultimate misery-maker,a manuscript rejection.
But I was blessed to be in a temple session today where an extraordinary sister was working. She was probably in her sixties, a five feet nothing wisp of white in a badly crippled body. She had a notable curve in her spine that left her twisted with hump near her shoulder blade. It required no small effort to maneuver about the room, tending to the sisters entrusted to her charge, and yet she made sure to make eye contact with each person, and offer them a welcome smile.
I never saw her smile fade to soberness. Even in the quiet moments, there was no tight-lipped response to her discomfort. Always, always, a sweet hint of a smile tugged at her lips, making us each feel welcomed . . . feel privileged to be near her.
I left feeling lifted, feeling grateful and humbled all at the same time. And I remembered something President Hinckley once said--that most of the work performed in the Church was done by people who didn't feel very well.
She wasn't a martyr or a good soldier. I think she knows that many parts of happiness require us to simply make a choice, because despite circumstances we cannot change, we can choose how we will respond.
The video that follows says it well. How we love, matters. She chose happiness, and because she did, I want to as well. And maybe if I do, someone else will also. See? It really does work.