As a young bishop, Thomas S. Monson
was committed to caring for and strengthening
the members of his ward.
Especially endearing to him were the 85 widows
that lived within those boundaries.
This energetic bishop took the time
to discern the needs of each one of these choice women.
Even after his release as bishop,
Thomas Monson continued to take a gift
and visit each one of the 85 widows
every Christmas for as long as each lived.
As a bishop, and throughout his life,
Thomas S. Monson has reached out to the needy, the homeless,
and the poor.
On a cold December night of 1951, he responded to a knock
at his door.
A German member of the Church from Ogden
announced that his brother's family was coming from Germany
and would live within the boundaries of Bishop Monson's
ward.
The man asked if Bishop Monson would
go with him to survey the apartment he
had rented for them.
On his way, the visitor, Karl Guertler,
told Bishop Monson that he had not
seen his brother, Hans, for many years.
Arriving at the complex, the two ascended a staircase.
"It isn't much," Brother Guertler said,
"but it's more than they've had in Germany."
As they entered and Bishop Monson surveyed
the cold and uninviting apartment,
he was heartsick and thought what
a dismal welcome for a family that has endured so much.
Bishop Monson did not sleep well that night.
The next morning at a board welfare committee
meeting, one of his counselors asked him
if something was wrong.
I told the committee members of my experience.
It was as though the Spirit of the Lord just enveloped us.
And they said, "What can we do about that, Bishop?"
Edward Early, the group leader of the high priest
spoke up and said, "I'm a master electrician
and have three helpers.
We'd like to rewire that place.
And I have contacts with those who sell refrigerators
and those who sell stoves, and I'll
get one donated, a new one of each one of those."
And then another person spoke up,
namely a painter, contractor, Brother Bowden.
He said, "I'm a contractor for painting,
and I can get my paint less than wholesale.
And my crew and I will paint the house."
And then that wonderful Relief Society president
said, "Relief Society women do not
like empty cupboard shelves.
We will fill them."
And we went about doing that.
We had two weeks to do it.
The night the Guertlers came, they
showed the appearance of someone who had shed many tears.
And all the way up the staircase to the second floor,
I remember Brother Guertler there saying,
"Now it isn't much, Hans.
It isn't much, but it's the best we could do.
It's the best we could do."
And then they opened the door.
Talk about a vision.
There was a nice carpet laid by my counselor, who was
a contractor for carpet laying.
And then there was the wallpaper all nice and new,
and the painting nice.
There was the Christmas tree all decorated.
Absolutely everything anyone would need.
I was 15.
I was a very insecure teenager.
We had not had a real home since before the war,
when our apartment building was bombed.
So we always had to double up with other families.
And to walk into an apartment and to know it would be ours
was just beyond comprehension to us.
It was like a shock.
I couldn't believe it.
And he put the key in front of me and said,
"You are in your own apartment."
As we left and our little band who had done all this work
came out onto the street, they were silent.
And they said, "Why is it that this
will be the best Christmas we've ever experienced?"
I said, "Do you remember the final verse of 'Little Town
of Bethlehem?'"
"No ear may hear his coming; But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive him yet,
the dear Christ enters in."
He entered into the apartment.
He entered into the lives of all who
were part of that experience.