One beautiful spring day several colleagues and I were participating in a business retreat. Two of us were walking along the streets of the city preparing to rejoin our wives and other family members when, all at once, we came upon a teenaged boy who seemed to be disoriented and in distress. As we passed by, he looked at us with fear and longing in his eyes. His arms reached out in a beckoning way to the pedestrians around him. He seemed to be challenged in multiple ways. Without stopping, we walked around the spot where he was standing and continued silently on our way. Then our pace slackened. Suddenly, my friend stopped and turned around. He walked back toward the young man and began to speak with him. “What can we do to help?” was the question. The young man seemed to be somewhat relieved but was uncommunicative. My friend attempted for some time to explore various options for being of assistance but could not seem to find any resolution. Finally, we concluded that nothing could be done at that time. We waved good-bye and continued down the street.
What was the outcome? Perhaps nothing more than an attempt to be of service. But there was more than that, for the effects of the action have continued to this day, and I have often thought with admiration about the charity of my friend. Why was this simple event so memorable for me? Because my friend has a son who is similarly challenged—and so do I. Any family who is blessed to care for a challenged child will never again look upon an individual in that situation with the same eyes. There will always be more compassion than before. There will always be a greater level of understanding, because life will have imparted a new kind of perspective, a new way of looking at things.
In a miraculous way, the gospel of Jesus Christ also provides a new way of looking at things, one that has enduring consequences. King Benjamin warned us not to withhold our assistance and compassion under any circumstances. “For behold, are we not all beggars? Do we not all depend upon the same Being, even God, for all the substance which we have?” (Mosiah 4:19). So powerful was the king’s masterful discourse that his listeners collapsed under the burden of their own nothingness, perceiving themselves as “even less than the dust of the earth” (Mosiah 4:2; compare Helaman 12:7–23). It was only in this state of perception—this new way of looking at things—that they could admit utter dependence upon the Lord, through whose redeeming merits and mercy alone can the joy of redemption come into one’s life.
And that is the surprising vista that the gospel gives, for once we perceive our nothingness (“which thing I had never supposed” was the way Moses characterizes this traumatic insight; see Moses 1:10), the Spirit can lift our sight to a crystal clear vision of the pathway of salvation.
When we see a beggar, a challenged person, we see ourselves, and in this perspective, we also see our pathway home. And that is the pathway of service, obedience, charity, faith, hope, diligence, compassion, humility, even a broken heart and a contrite spirit—the “mighty change” (Mosiah 5:2) to which King Benjamin gave us the master key. (Richard J. Allen)