The year 2010 brought an extra dose of personal enlightenment as I discovered the true meaning of two words: "humility" and "hope." But I had to travel halfway around the world to find out what the words mean right here at home.
In 2010, record-setting disasters in the world caused 260,000 fatalities — the deadliest in 26 years. The Haitian earthquake, the Russian heat wave and the Pakistani floods caused the biggest losses of human life. Millions of people in these and many other countries lost everything. But as devastating as these calamities were, I want to tell you about a few people who had nothing to begin with.
I visited Sierra Leone at the beginning of 2010. Most of this small country's infrastructure, crops and animals were destroyed by an 11-year civil war that ended in 2002. Near the country's second largest city of Bo lies the small village of Lowama. The village's only access from Bo is by canoe.
Lowama has no cars, wagons, roads, stores, horses, cattle, televisions, refrigerators, blenders, washing machines or appliances. The people have no electricity or modern conveniences. I saw no closets or bookcases — people have nothing to put in them. Couches, cribs, dressers, bedframes and plumbing fixtures were also absent, and the children had no toys and few clothes.
Houses in Lowama and hundreds of other villages that dot the countryside are mud brick huts with grass roofs and square, open-air openings for windows. Kitchens consist of a few cast-iron pots outside, and wooden bowls are used to grind grain with the blunted end of a tree limb. The most prolific import I noticed? Large, plastic bowls and pots for hauling water in the traditional African method, with containers perched on a woman's or a child's head.
Unfortunately, these Sierra Leonean villages are not the exception to much of the world's standard of living. With little variance, I witnessed the same living conditions in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Dominican Republic and even in remote mountain villages in Peru. My associates had similar experiences in other African, Asian and South American countries.
It's one thing to read about people in humble circumstances, but it's an entirely different experience to walk with them, listen to their stories, play with their children, eat at their tables — if they have one — and hear about their hopes and dreams.
What did I discover as I spent time with these people?
Maria in Guatemala hopes for the day that a well will be completed and she won't have to give her children contaminated water to drink. Margaret in Sierra Leone also dreams of the moment clear water will gush from the well, signaling the end of diarrhea — and sometimes death — for her little children.
The stories continue. Sedrick in the DR Congo longs for the day when he will finally have enough money from his banana sales to pay the required $250 for his missionary passport. His friend Nestor is just weeks away — after working for four years to save $2,250 for passports — from taking his wife and seven children to the temple to make eternal covenants. His is only the second family in his district to do so. Branch President Giscal hopes that the next time he walks the 24 miles to Luputa it is for stake instead of district conference — and that he or someone else can be set apart as a bishop.
I am humbled and touched deeply by the humble lives of Mary, Margaret, Sedrick, Nestor, President Giscal and others. I revel in the hope they have for the important things in their lives.
As I notice my everyday abundance, I can't help but consider how sacrificing just a small portion of my blessings can lift so many others and help sustain them physically and spiritually. Each of us can make a huge difference through clean-water projects, the general missionary fund, the temple patron fund and other charitable endeavors.
Together, we can lift others and spread a sense of hope in 2011. Together, with gratitude for the good around us, we can help turn sacrifices into tremendous blessings for all.